The Road Not Taken
by RydenStewart
Summary: There are always moments that can change a story dramatically, in small or large ways. Here, we choose the road not taken, the road less travelled... and that will make all the difference. Here, we follow the story of 'what might have been'. (Harry befriends someone in Diagon Alley and it changes his life. Neville-Harry friendship. Sort of a self-insert but not really?) SEQUEL UP
1. Strange New World

**Author's Note:** _I was imagining what it would be like to be dropped into an alternate universe - particularly an alternate, and fictional, universe that you had some knowledge about. What if you could change the fate of that world? Would you?_

_This is what happens if someone makes that choice, to diverge from the path and create a new future. Or, at least, I hope so. _

* * *

**~ Strange New World ~**

Su was sitting in a tree, reading. The dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, bathing her in green and gold. Below her, her younger brothers were playing tag with their cousins – squealing and screaming and running like wild things. She paid them no mind, absorbed by her book. She was caught up in the story, imagining a new and different world, far away and impossible to reach – a world of magic and mystery and danger and excitement.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, pressing against her ribs and lungs, and it was hard to breathe for excitement. The pages turned and she reached the climax of the story, the great battle, the triumphs, the tears, the losses and fears and hopes for the future. And then it was over, for at least a little while, and she heaved a sigh of relief.

"Su! Su, where are you?"

"Over here, Mum!" She waved at her mother, tucking the latest Harry Potter book into her bag, right next to _William Shakespeare's Othello, Computer Engineering for Dummies, A Brief History of Time, _and _Myths, Legends, and Fairytales._

"Su, lunch is in five minutes," her mum told her, standing beneath the tree. "Get down from the tree and meet us at the table across the park, okay? Wash your hands, too!"

"Yes, mum, I'll be right down."

Her mum walked away, and Su dreamed for a moment about receiving a Hogwarts acceptance letter for her eleventh birthday in the next year. But magic wasn't real, and she lived in Australia anyway, so she couldn't go to a boarding school in Scotland.

Still, it could be fun, doing magic. It seemed like a dead useful thing to have.

She carefully dropped her bag to the ground, so that she could climb down the tree without it snagging on the branches, which had been a problem on the way up. Unfortunately, the bag knocked against the trunk of the tree and fell into a dark hole beneath the trees bulging roots.

She scowled at it. Great. Just great.

She jumped gracefully out of the tree, landing on her feet with no injuries and perfect balance. When her mother had given her club options, gymnastics had seemed far more useful than knitting club or girl's soccer, and it was really paying off.

On the ground now, she looked for the hole that her bag had fallen into, while in the distance her mum shouted for her to hurry up and come for lunch.

"Be there in a second!" She called back.

The hole was deeper than she had originally thought, and she wondered briefly if it was an animal burrow of some kind. A rabbit hole, maybe? The thought made her laugh. Still, she could see her bag, sitting in the dirt just beyond her reach, while the Harry Potter book had fallen onto the grass just beside her.

"Mum's going to get me for this," Su sighed, eyeing the dirt on the bag. Grumbling about getting her clothes dirty, and the inevitable scolding she'd get from her mother for it, Su slipped past the tree roots and into the hole.

That's where everything went wrong.

She snatched up her bag, but the dirt beneath her feet crumbled, and she found herself choking on the dust, blinded by the dirt that got into her eyes. She was falling, flailing, and couldn't find her balance in the small space.

Something hit her neck, and stars burst in front of her eyes, but the burning pain distracted her from the sight. Then all she knew was pain and darkness.

* * *

She had the strangest sensation of floating, as if she was adrift in the ocean.

All she could see was darkness, and somewhere, just out of her reach, something silvery and misty, floating in the current with her. It came closer and closer, until it surrounded her with a softly glowing silver light.

The mist was cold, but to her surprise, when she touched it, it circled around her hands and soaked into her skin, until she herself was glowing. It felt a little odd, like when her eyes were adjusting from darkness to light, a little painful, but ultimately it left her feeling clearer-headed.

She could hear whispers, echoing all around her, but she wasn't sure what they're saying. Just as she strained her ears, tuning into the sounds, something tugged at her, pulling her out of her lazy, floating haze, and down, down, down, into somewhere else.

* * *

She landed on her feet, at least, though she stumbled into the wall.

Looking around, Su subdued, with great difficulty, the urge to panic. She was standing in a room of black marble, surrounded by strangers in dresses, each pointing a stick at her and eyeing her warily. She must have fallen into some secret underground lair of a freakish cult or something. She just hoped they wouldn't try to sacrifice her in some kind of deadly pagan ritual, or force her to marry an eighty-year-old man.

She wasn't really sure what freaky cults _did_, but she really didn't want to find out.

"Um," she glanced around, looking for the door. "If you wanted to show me the way out, I'll just get out of your hair and be on my way. Sound fair?"

One of the strangers waved their stick and a bright red light shot towards her.

Once again, she was swallowed by darkness.

* * *

"She's waking up!"

"Quick! Hand me the potion!"

Someone gently pried her lips open and dropped some water onto her tongue. The sensations that followed were strange. At once, everything she knew became sharp and clear, but her limbs felt heavy and her thoughts were foggy.

"What is your full name?" one man asked.

"Su Ran Li."

"How old are you?"

"Nine years and eleven months. I turn ten on the twelfth of July."

"Where did you come from?"

"Clarify – where was I born? Where was I raised? Where was I directly before I came into this room? Where was I directly before I dropped into that other black room?"

The strangers exchanged glances, though Su could not properly interpret these glances. She didn't know why her answer was so strange – after all, their question _had_ been very vague. If they wanted clear answers, they needed clear questions.

"All of the above," a woman declared at last.

"I was born in Melbourne, Victoria. I was raised in Melbourne, Victoria. I was in that black room full of strangers directly before waking in this room. I was in a tree in Scotland on holiday reading a book, and then in a hole looking for a bag that I dropped, directly before falling into that black room full of strangers."

"Do you know where you are?"

"No."

"Do you know how you got here?"

"No."

"Do you know who we are?"

"No."

"What do you want?"

"I want to go back to my family, because my mother is probably worried about me, and my brothers are probably hungry for lunch and sick of looking for me, and I don't know anyone here and I'm scared so I want to leave."

The strangers exchanged glances again, before leaving the room. Su watched them go, her limbs still heavy, but her thoughts less foggy. She was afraid that she had been drugged and kidnapped. She didn't know where she was, and things were looking grim.

* * *

"What did she say?" Madame Locke asked, pacing in her office before the three Unspeakables who had been present in the Veil room when the girl had fallen through it. No one was sure what had happened – only that they were experimenting with time-turner bubbles in proximity to the Veil, in hopes of being able to communicate with the dead. Instead, out of nowhere, a small girl had stumbled out of the Veil.

Alfred Yao had been so surprised that he had stunned the poor girl.

"We gave her the veritaserum, Madame Locke," Yao told her. "Her name is Su Li, she's nine. She doesn't know where she is or how she got here. She just wants to go home."

"A nine-year-old," Locke's face fell, sighing. "She was far too young to die."

"Li," Sherlock Pearl frowned. "Any relation of yours, Beatrice?"

Beatrice Li shook her head.

"I don't know," she confessed. "If she were from England, I could probably assume she was a cousin that became a casualty of the war, but she's from Australia so…"

"She _did_ mention that she was in Scotland before she fell through the Veil," Pearl pointed out. "She might not be related to you, but the war still might've gotten her."

"I suppose."

"If I may ask," Yao frowned, shifting nervously on his feet. "What are we going to do with her? We can't just send her back through the Veil… can we?"

Locke shook her head. "No. It is possible that we might learn something from this girl, about where she came from, and what happened to her. Besides, she's only a child. She deserves to live a full life, even if it's not the life that she was originally intended for."

"Who's going to take care of her then?" Pearl frowns. "It will have to be an Unspeakable, because we need access to her if any new information comes up, or if we need to ask her about her past and such. I'm just saying this now – I am barely qualified to keep _myself_ healthy, let alone a child."

Locke glanced at the other woman in the room, and Li blushed under her scrutiny.

"Well… Nathan _has_ been asking me if we might settle down and have some children. I don't think that a nine-year-old is exactly what he had in mind, but perhaps it's a start?"

Locke nodded. "Alright, I'll draft up the paperwork, we need a backstory for the girl. Until everything is prepared, I suggest that we all lay low. We don't need anyone from the Upper Floors digging into this. I hate bureaucrats."

"Yes, ma'am."

Li, Yao, and Pearl bowed before the head of the Department of Mysteries and left.

* * *

The drug was beginning to wear off, and Su looked around at her surroundings nervously. She was in a room made of the same gold-veined black marble as the one she had fallen into before. This room was smaller, had no windows, and only one door.

She was sitting in a moderately comfortable wingback armchair, but there was no other furniture in the room, and no carpet on the floor. It was very Spartan.

She realized with a start that there were no lights in the room – or at least, not electric ones. The were flickering candles in ornamental iron sconces bolted to the walls, the shifting light and shimmering shadows were starting to scare her. She was in a strange place, being held prisoner by a cult of child-drugging creeps, and she had no idea what they wanted from her.

She just wanted her mum, to be held in her arms and told that everything would be okay. That it was all a nightmare and the monsters wouldn't get her as long as she cleaned her room and ate all her vegetables.

A choked half-sob, half-laugh burst from her throat at the thought of the old stories her mum would tell her to simultaneously rid her of her fear of monsters under the bed and also do her chores at the same time.

"You all right there?"

Su sobered immediately, drawing her knees up to her chest in order to get as far away from the strange woman as possible. She didn't know what they wanted from her, and she was terrified out of her wits, but she wouldn't go down without a fight if that were what it would come to.

Beatrice felt pity and sympathy tug her heart at the sight of the small girl curled up in a chair that dwarfed her, eyes wide with fear. She was pretty enough, Beatrice thought distractedly, with long, straight black hair and wide dark eyes. Everything about the girl was petite and delicate, but there was something in her eyes, beyond the terror and fragility, that intrigued her. It was a look of careful calculation.

Su was trying to figure out if she could escape before the strange woman could attack her. Those robes were long and cumbersome – if she could tangle the woman's hands and then knock her off her feet, perhaps she could make a dash for the door. The problem was, Su didn't know where she was, or how to get out, or how many people she would find on the other side of the door. She decided to wait it out.

Beatrice watched the girl's eyes dart between herself and the door, glancing at the wand in her hand, to her robes, to her feet and to her eyes. There were plans forming behind those eyes, she could see, and this impressed her.

"My name is Beatrice," she told the girl, smiling gently at her. "I've been sent here to explain your situation to you. I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me."

She conjured up a chair for herself, casually dropping into to allow an atmosphere of informality and intimacy less likely to frighten the poor girl.

Su squeaked and paled, her hands clenching the armrests of her own chair so hard that the nails bit into the fabric and her knuckles turned white.

Beatrice raised her eyebrows. Perhaps this Li was a muggle-born, or even just a straight muggle, to have been surprised by the magic?

Silently, she cast a core-examination spell on the girl, and observed the girl's still-unstable magical core floating around her body with a silvery glow.

So she was a witch then. She was probably a muggle-born, considering her reaction to magic. Maybe she was muggle-raised, at the very least. Beatrice decided that she would just let the girl ask her questions, and give more explanations about the magical world and how it worked to her as time went by.

"Go on," she let her smile evolve into an easy, friendly grin. "Just ask me anything."

"Where," Su began, but she hesitated. Beatrice nodded encouragingly and she continued. "Where are we? What is this place? Why am I here?"

"We are in the Department of Mysteries, a branch of the Ministry of Magic focused on research and development," Beatrice smiled. "Yes, magic is real. I know it's hard to believe right now, so we will talk about that a little bit later, when you are more comfortable. As for why you are here…"

Beatrice sighed. She wasn't really sure how to explain this situation to a child. To her superiors, who knew of the projects and purposes, yes – but a child? Unknown territory.

"We have been experimenting, with the Veil– a powerful object that we know very little about other than the fact that we can hear snatches of whispers from those we know to be dead on the other side. As a result of these experiments, you have been expelled from the Veil and into the hall that holds it. We can only assume that you have died at some point, and were drawn through the Veil through our experiments."

"I died?" It was hard to believe, it just sounded so impossible, and Su couldn't imagine how it could have happened. Did she… did she break her neck, in that hole in the ground? Or did she just hit her head so hard that she was hallucinating about women conjuring chairs and talking about the Ministry of Magic in a British accent.

"We think so," Beatrice told her. "To tell the truth, we know very little about the Veil and what lies beyond it. No one has ever returned from the other side – even when we tie ropes around them, they just seem to disappear into thin air.

Su curled up in her chair, trying to sort through her thoughts. There was a Ministry of Magic in the book she had been reading, perhaps her recently finished book was affecting her imagination and hallucinations – her little daydream had become a full-blown fantasy, complete with tactile details. It was starting to scare her.

"Right," she said, after a while. "Ministry of Magic. Veil. Experiments. Dead. I suppose this means that the only way for me to get home would be to kill me? That seems like a bad idea. What happens to me now?"

If it were all just a dream, then Su would simply wake up naturally… eventually. If, somehow, she really _had_ died and been dragged into an alternate universe, magic had already been demonstrated to her and there was no obvious way home.

Beatrice fidgeted. She had been expecting the question, but she was still unsure of how to handle children, and was anxious of the girl's reaction to an invitation to stay in the home of complete and total strangers.

"Well, it has been suggested… I mean to say, that a logical and viable option," Beatrice stumbled over her words, unsure how to phrase it for a nine-year-old mind. "My superior has proposed that, for the time being, you might stay with myself, and my husband – he is quite fond of children, but we have been unblessed so far."

"So… I will be living with you until more permanent arrangements can be made?" Su asked, surprising Beatrice with her mature vocabulary.

"Exactly," she smiled at the girl. "I must admit – you're taking this much better than I thought that you would. I expected more tears."

"I think I'm in shock," Su confessed. "You can expect the tears, soon, I suppose."

"I'll keep that in mind," Beatrice smiled.

"Do you have my bag?" Su asked.

"It's outside," Beatrice assured her. "We can pick it up on our way out, if you'd like."

Su nodded, and followed Beatrice out of the room.

* * *

"So, is there a Wizard's Bank?" Su asked, as she followed Beatrice out of the Department of Mysteries and through the corridors of the Ministry. "Is it like normal banks? Do you make deposits and investments and wills and hide your jewellery there?"

"Our bank is called Gringotts," Beatrice told her. "It's run by goblins. They're very clever, and very proud. Never get on the bad side of a goblin."

"Gringotts," Su repeated. It seemed that she had been right – she had somehow dropped into the fictional universe of JK Rowling's books. "Where's that?"

"In Diagon Alley, part of the central Wizard's Network in London."

Su was silent, considering her situation. She was sure now that she was in JK Rowling's Harry Potter universe – complete with magic, goblins, and Gringotts Bank. But she was lacking information, as not only had she not finished reading all the books, but she also lacked the information that Rowling had neglected to expand upon, as it was not important to the plot.

How big, exactly, was Diagon Alley? Was Knockturn Alley the only other wizarding street in London or where there others like it? Were all these streets for shopping only, or were there neighbourhoods and homes somewhere in the middle of London?

Su felt, suddenly, that she had only ever seen a very small part of a very large world, and decided that – afterlife or hallucination or Alice-Down-the-Rabbit-Hole – she would learn as much as she could about this new world.

"So… where are we going now?" She asked, ducking under a flock of flying memos and trying not to stare. She had long since given up trying to remember all the twists and turns that compromised the maze that was the Ministry.

"To the public fireplaces, so that we can Floo out of here," Beatrice told her.

Su tilted her head to the side, squinting at Beatrice and pretending not to understand.

"I'll show you how it works when we get there," Beatrice promised.

"Is there anything else you think I should know before we go?" Su asked, stumbling after Beatrice in the great crowds that flooded the main hall, and eyeing the garish gold statue of magical creatures worshipping a witch and a wizard with distaste.

Beatrice used a combination of Notice-Me-Not charms and tripping jinxes to bump herself and Su to the front of a long line before a public fireplace. She paused while considering Su's question, and then shrugged.

"Nothing that I can think of at the moment," she admitted. "Only that you should probably avoid touching things in the house until I can tidy up my… experiments. Oh! And my husband's name is Nathan – and he loves to cook."

"Right." Su still felt woefully unequipped to face the wizarding world, but supposed that the majority of things she would pick up as she went along.

"Right," Beatrice nodded, smiling. "Okay – the Floo. Take a pinch of Floo Powder, and throw it into the flames. The green fire won't hurt you, so don't worry. Step into the flames and shout – very clearly, mind – the name of your destination. I'd suggest you close your eyes and hold your breath to avoid the smoke and dust."

"Got it," Su nodded, staring at the fireplace with grim determination.

Beatrice put a pinch of Floo Powder into her hand.

"Our address is _Greenling Cottage, Wiltshire_," Beatrice told her.

Su nodded and stepped into the fire, dropping the powder on the flames and shouting, "Greenling Cottage, Wiltshire!"

* * *

Su stumbled out of the fireplace, coughing. Behind her, Beatrice appeared in a flash of green flames, wiping the ash from her face with a handkerchief and offering a spare to Su, who gratefully accepted.

"Nate?" Beatrice called out. "I'm home! I've brought a guest."

"I'm in the kitchen, Bea!"

Beatrice smiled, and gently guided Su through the house, towards the kitchen.

Su was finding it hard not to stare. A wizard's house was not greatly different from 'normal' houses – there were couches in the living room, and a coffee table, and bookcases and shelves full of photographs and knickknacks. But the photographs were moving, and peering at their new houseguest, and the knickknacks were hovering toy brooms and sleeping little gold cat statuettes.

The cottage wasn't big – from all appearances there was only the living room, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen-dining area – but Su liked it. For one thing, there were books crammed into every corner, on every subject.

She could see titles like _A History of Time-Travel: Past and Future _by Martin McDowell; _Mythical Creatures that Really Do Exist_ by Xenophilius Lovegood_; The Narnia Myth _by Icarus Smoke; and _Aeroplanes: Can Muggles Fly?_ By Tamara Knoll.

She hoped that she'd stay long enough to read some of these books – even if she was just hallucinating. She hoped that, somehow, she had gained the ability to use magic, and could practice some of the spells she might find in _Advanced Travel Charms _or _101 Useful Transfigurations_. After all, what was the point of being dropped into a magical world if you couldn't use magic?

Finally they emerged from the living room and entered the kitchen, where Nathan Li was cooking dinner. Su watched, fascinated, as while he chopped vegetables manually, behind him on the stove, a pot was stirring itself, and another spoon was serving rice into some bowls without assistance.

_Magic is amazing,_ she thought.

"Nathan, I'd like you to meet Su Li, she'll be staying with us for at least a little while," Beatrice put a hand on Su's shoulder, and it was a solid and comforting weight. But that weight, and those words – _at least a little while _– suddenly it felt so real.

This wasn't a dream. She was stuck, in some other world, away from her family, her friends, her _life_. She might never be able to return home. She might be _dead_ – wasn't that what Beatrice had said?

She burst into tears, surprising both Beatrice and her husband. Nathan immediately rushed over, offering Su a handkerchief, which she accepted, sobbing uncontrollably.

She hated crying – it was so messy. There were tears, and the snot, and the uneven breathing. Crying was just so undignified, and _emotional_ and Su found that – while cathartic – the experience was generally unpleasant.

"Oh, sweetheart," Beatrice sighed, stroking Su's hair. "It's okay."

"What's the matter?" Nathan asked. He was quite confused by his hysterical new guest. In fact, he was quite confused by the actual _presence_ of his guest.

"She's had a rough day," Beatrice told him. "I'll explain later. Su, why don't you get some rest? The guest bedroom is over here, just put your bag down and get some sleep." Gently she led Su to the bedroom, and emerged soon after, having tucked the girl in.

"What's going on, Bea?" He asked, sitting down at the table and handing her a bowl.

"One sec," Beatrice held up a hand and ate her dinner quickly, while her husband squirmed – with impressive patience – beside her, occasionally picking at his own meal.

When they were done, Beatrice told him all about experimenting with the Veil, trying to communicate with the dead, and the unexpected emergence of Su from within. There was no record of anyone ever emerging from the Veil, and the Department of Mysteries wanted to ask Su a lot of questions about Death, and what was Beyond the Veil.

"This is happening very quickly," Nathan frowned, rubbing his temples. "This is Ministry business – where's all the paperwork? You know how that bureaucracy works, everything takes eight months to be processed and finalised… unless you're a ridiculously wealthy pureblood." At this, he scowled. "Did you know that Lucius Malfoy has delayed another raid on his house? This is the third 'surprise' raid that's been postponed this year! I was talking to Arthur Weasley about it – you know how they were in school, don't you remember? Always at each other's throats. There was fifth year, when they–"

"Back to the situation at hand, Nathan," Beatrice put a calming hand on his arm, and smiled at him, both amused and exasperated. "We have been asked to take care of this little girl – for the foreseeable future. I don't believe it will be too much trouble. In a year, she'll be off to Hogwarts, and we'll hardly see her…"

Nathan sighed.

"I don't know, Bea," he said. "Death is Death – it can't be defied without terrible consequences. And time-turners… terrible things happen to people who mess with time. You know this better than anyone, Bea."

"Changing the past is one thing," Beatrice replied. "But giving a future to someone who deserves one, who was too young to die – surely that's reason enough? Nathan, haven't you always wanted children?"

"Beatrice, this isn't about wanting or not wanting," he growled, frustrated. "This is about messing with things beyond your understanding. The effects of keeping her here, when she doesn't belong in our world, could be disastrous!"

"So what?" Beatrice snapped, scowling. "What would you have me do? Send her back through the Veil? She's a child, Nate, and I won't send her to her death if I don't have to. She deserves to live a full and happy life, don't you think so?"

"I'm just worried," Nathan pleaded. "The consequences of this… Bea – _bad things happen_ _to people who thwart death and play with time._"

"I know," Beatrice sighed, and she looked very, very tired. "I know that. I do. I just– I can't– _Nathan_. Everyone deserves a second chance. She's just a girl. She's not about to go our and destroy the world or anything."

"_He_ was just a boy once," Nathan told her; equally quiet. "Then he started screwing around with death and became a Dark Lord and now no one will say his name."

"Just…" Beatrice slumped in her seat. "Just give her a chance. Please?"

Nathan looked at his wife – and she was so beautiful and sad and _tired_ and _hopeful_… how could he deny her anything, really?

"Okay, Bea. Okay."

* * *

In the bedroom, Su Li tossed and turned beneath the covers.

She was trapped in some strange new world, without her family, and without her friends, and with only the barest understanding of what had happened to her.

There was no way to get back home, she decided, so she must adjust to this new world. In the morning, she would try to see if she had magic. Then she would do as she had always done – learn everything that she could about everything she came across.

One day, she might just change the world.

* * *

**A/N: **_Even though Su's technically a character in the books, she basically doesn't feature at all. Her personality, her history, her existence in an alternate universe is all made up by me. Basically I'm screwing with canon - but isn't that what fanfiction's for?_

_Anyway, if you want to, you can review and tell me what you think. _


	2. A Shocking Reveal

**Author's Note:** _I'm really interested in looking at Harry's POV for the things that change... but there's still some set up to do first. _**_  
_**

_I don't own the HP universe, and I'm quite happy with Canon – after all, fan fiction is for exploring all those other possibilities :)_

* * *

**~ A Shocking Reveal ~**

Su woke in the morning feeling groggy and weak. For a moment she was startled by her unfamiliar surroundings, then she realised that she must be in the hotel in Scotland.

But wait… she blinked and opened her eyes again, frowning. The hotel room was a bit bigger than this room, although the bed was not nearly as uncomfortable. She couldn't see her suitcase anywhere either, or the funny little picture of palm trees on the wall, which had seemed so out of place in Scotland.

It all came rushing back to her – the hole, falling, that strange room, magic…

She sat up with a sudden gasp, clutching at her chest where her heart had constricted painfully beneath her ribs. _She'd never see her family again._ Sure, they could be annoying – they were family – but for that same reason, Su loved them, and would miss them.

Quietly, she began to cry again, burying her tears in her pillow so that she wouldn't be too much a bother to her gracious hosts. But Su was a sensible girl, and soon dried her tears, took a deep breath, and went out in search of breakfast.

In the kitchen she found Nathan Li, already awake and boiling up some rice porridge for their breakfast. He had his back to her and hadn't seen her, but Su wasn't sure how to behave around him. She did not know him, or even, really, his wife. She was a stranger who had been thrust upon him, a responsibility in his home that he hadn't asked for, and she worried that he might be resentful of her presence.

Nathan had, in fact, noticed her entering the kitchen, having caught a glimpse of her in the reflection of a silver spoon. He was similarly unsure of how to interact with his new guest – her situation was just so strange and sad. Looking at her, she was very small and slight for her age, and he saw that her eyes were red and puffy from crying.

He felt guilty, then, for wanting to send such a fragile child back through the Veil. Beatrice was right, of course. The girl _did_ deserve a chance, but he worried what the consequences might be, of defying death – but he supposed that Harry Potter had done so, surviving the Killing Curse as he had…

"Why don't you sit down?" he smiled at the girl, tired but friendly. "Breakfast will be ready soon, and Bea will be out when the food's done – she has wonderful timing."

The girl smiled back, unsure. She was quite pretty, Nathan noticed, and he supposed that in a few years he'd be trying to fend off potential suitors… he shook himself free of that train of thought. It was far too soon to become attached to the girl, though he had wanted a daughter of his own for many years.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I never did get your name."

"Su," she told him. "Su Li."

He rolled his eyes, smiling wryly. "I suppose it's no wonder that Locke dropped you on us," he said. "There are many Li's, all over the world, magical and muggle. You could easily be one of my many, _many_cousins. They're all over the place really. I've got a mate down in Australia; he married an Amelia Li, and asked me if we were related. I said no, first, but then realised that – actually – she's one of my third cousins or something"

"I have an Aunt Amelia," Su murmured. "Not on dad's side, though. Amelia Yong. She married Uncle Ian when I was seven. I like her, she's pretty, and bakes cookies."

Nathan nodded, and they drifted into an awkward silence. Nathan was generally a man of many words, but he couldn't find anything to say to the girl.

Su cast a curious gaze around the kitchen, her eyes catching on the books on the bench nearby. They covered topics from home-tailoring transfigurations, to cooking charms, to magical recipes and suggested herbs.

"Would you like to read them?" Nathan asked after a while, startling her.

"Yes please," she replied quickly.

Nathan smiled at her. Here, at least, he understood what to do. Beatrice had been a Ravenclaw in school, and most of their collection of books came of her finding an interesting title and purchasing it, charging through her reading three books a day.

He hesitated for a moment on what to let the girl read – she was too young for Hogwarts, and he didn't like encouraging unsupervised underage magic. Finally, after a few minutes of hunting around he discovered his first-year potions textbook. It was a little out of date, but he had made many notes in the margins about possible adjustments to the potions based on ingredient interactions.

Su's eyes widened as he placed the book in her hands, recognising his name on the cover. She hadn't expected to be given such a personal book, even if it was only an old school book. She launched into reading immediately, before remembering her manners.

"Thank you," she whispered, blushing. "For the book."

Nathan smiled and nodded, and Su went back to her reading, engrossed.

Beatrice entered the kitchen, with Nathan sitting next to an absorbed Su. Both were reading, mechanically spooning rice porridge into their mouths without noticing the taste, entirely caught up in the pages. Su reading an old potions textbook and Nathan frowning over the _Daily Prophet_, with _the Quibbler_ next to his elbow.

She smiled – Su and Nathan had bonded over something that she could share equally with them – reading had always been a passion of hers. Su didn't notice when Beatrice served herself some porridge and sat next to her, though Nathan smiled at her over the top of his paper before refocusing his attention on the latest article about the recent election of Cornelius Fudge as Minister for Magic.

They remembered Fudge from school, a low-level Slytherin with high ambition, but little intelligence. He was charismatic, certainly, but not much of a thinker.

Nathan worried about Lucius Malfoy's obvious influence with Fudge, while Beatrice worried over the ministry budgeting. A ridiculous amount of money was being put into useless endeavours, like the building of a new wing for the Ministry's Department of Splinch Assistance – which was full of Pureblood heirs with very little to do except play indoor Quidditch in their new stadium – and there was not enough funding being put into more active Departments, including Magical Law Enforcement, the Department of Mysteries, and the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts.

Meanwhile, the process of potion making fascinated Su, though she despaired of ever memorising any of the complicated recipes, complete with _directional_ stirring. She asked Nathan some questions about his own notes in the margins, and he explained a little about the reactions of some ingredients with others, and how to increase or decrease the potency of an ingredient in the way they were prepared.

Su still didn't entirely understand, so Nathan went into the living room, and after digging around in the shelves for a while, came back with a very large and heavy book called _the Potion Master's Comprehensive Guide to All Useful Ingredients and Their Properties_ by Damocles Belby, and an old, dusty tome labelled _Potent Potions: First Steps and Preparations_ by Deimos Black.

Su thanked him profusely, and dived back into the first year potions book, cross-referencing with the new books, Beatrice just smiled, recognising a potential Ravenclaw in the girl. She wouldn't deny that it made her a little proud to think that the girl that she had… rescued? Adopted? …That the girl that she had taken in showed leanings towards her old Hogwarts house.

"I've got work now," she told Nathan. "Paperwork to sort out, you understand." They glanced at Su, who was happily absorbed in the potions books and didn't notice. "Why don't you get to know Su a little better? We need to come up with a backstory, and it might be easier to do if we know a little more of her."

Nathan had settled a little since the night before, and now that he had interacted with Su – even a little – he saw too much of his wife in her to condemn her to death because of his own fears. Beatrice was right, as per usual, in that the girl deserved a chance to live a full life, especially taken away from her old one so young.

"We'll have fun together," he assured her. "I'll see you when you come home."

Beatrice smiled and pulled him in for a kiss. Su pulled a face and ducked behind her book, but didn't protest. She was reminded of her own parents, being goofy and in love, and the reminder stung her a little because she'd never see them and their silly romantic antics again – at least, not in the near future. She had no idea how she had been transported into a different dimension – a _fictional_ dimension – let alone how to return.

"I'll see you tonight, Su," Beatrice said, when she pulled back from her husband.

"Okay," Su nodded, and waved Beatrice goodbye as the Unspeakable left the kitchen. Seconds later, she and Nathan heard her shout, "Ministry of Magic", and the tell tale whoosh of flames as she Floo-ed to the Ministry.

Su and Nathan remained silent for the next few hours – Su engrossed in her reading, and Nathan tidying up the kitchen and then drawing up some possible stories to explain Su's presence. He had thought of and dismissed three stories before glancing up at the girl in question.

He had to admit to himself that he was still a little uncomfortable around her – simply the idea that anyone could come through the Veil… come back from the dead… it was completely alien to him, and he couldn't imagine what it might be like on the other side.

Su noticed Nathan's discomfort, though she was unaware of his internal struggle. She felt guilty for his confusion, thinking that he was as much a victim of her situation as she was, having a strange girl thrust upon him as a new and sudden responsibility.

Still his staring was becoming quite frustrating, and so she looked up from her book suddenly, startling him.

"Is there something you want to say?" She asked.

"Ah, yes, actually," Nathan smiled at her, though his expression was strained. "I just… well…" he had always wanted children, but had little experience with them. So, like his wife, he decided to just be direct and honest – Su seemed like a smart kid, she could handle it. "I suppose I'd just like to get to know you a little better. You'll be a part of this family soon, and I know we're all a little… cautious around each other at the moment, but I hope that we'll be able to become friends, despite the difficult circumstances."

Su smiled, and put her books to the side.

"Alright," she said. "I'll start. What's your favourite colour? Mine's green."

Nathan raised his eyebrows, surprised. "That's your first question?"

Su shrugged. "It's a start, isn't it?"

"If you say so," Nathan grinned. "My favourite colour is blue. Okay then, what's your favourite game? I, personally, am a fan of wizard's chess."

"I like chess, I suppose," Su nodded, thinking. "I really like Uno, or Big Two, or Five Hundred, or Phase Ten… I like card games. They're fun and friendly and competitive."

"I don't know any of those games," Nathan admitted.

"I'm not surprised," Su returned. "They're non-magical games. Maybe we can buy some card packs and I'll teach them to you."

"That sounds like a good idea," Nathan smiled.

"Okay," Su tried to think of a question. "Favourite movie?"

"Movie?" Nathan frowned. "What's a movie?"

Su squinted at him, disbelieving. "You don't know what movies are?" She sat back in her chair as Nathan shook his head. "Hmmm, how much do you know about the non-magical world?" She asked him.

"Muggle," he murmured. "We call non-magical people 'muggles'."

"Well, what do you know about the muggle world?"

"Not much," Nathan sighed. "My family are what we call 'purebloods' – we've been wizards for generations, and don't really have much to do with the muggle world."

"Oh," Su thought about that. "Is Beatrice a pureblood as well?"

"She's a half-blood," Nathan told her. "Her father was a pureblood – Kyle Parkinson – but her mother is a muggle. It was a bit of a scandal actually. The Parkinson's pride themselves on being purebloods, and look down on those of 'inferior birth', because they think that wizards are better than muggles because they have magic, and that being related to muggles dilutes the blood and magical ability any wizarding offspring."

"I don't really understand how that all works," Su admitted. "I mean, I can understand why it's generally better for wizards to marry witches – because then you don't have to hide your magic from the people that you care about – but I don't see any reason that people who come from the muggle world might be inferior. I mean, they're still wizards, right? They still have magic?"

Nathan nodded. "I agree. Most wizards do marry witches, muggle-born, halfblood, pureblooded, whatever, but some of the more… extreme pureblood families believe that only families that have been purebloods for many generations are 'worthy'. The problem is that they're not having enough children – perhaps only one or two a generation per family – and so their pool of 'worthy' marriage partners is… disturbingly small."

Su pulled a face. "Yeah," she agreed. "That's gross."

"It's pretty bad here in the United Kingdom," Nathan continued. "Because there's such a small concentration of wizards here, and most wizards don't really travel all that much, or because the pureblood families from some countries look down on other countries as well… now that I think about it, the 'elite' purebloods tolerate very few people; those that aren't closely related to muggles, aren't muggle sympathisers, aren't foreign, and who have money and political power."

"That… is a very specifically select list," Su said after a moment. "Huh. What about the rest of the world then? Like Australia?"

Nathan did not miss the hopeful note in her voice – some longing for her home.

He smiled. "Australia's a lot more forward thinking that much of the rest of the world. Part of the reason for that is the unusually high wizarding population. There are estimates that around fifteen per cent of the Australian population are magical, though most of them live comfortably alongside muggles. Magical creatures like the platypus, or the blue-ringed octopus exist in plain sight amongst the muggles there. Also, because there are fewer people living in the Southern Hemisphere, and there is less land as well, there magic in Australia is highly concentrated. Have you ever wondered why the weather in Melbourne was so unpredictable? There are almost a million wizards living there. The concentration of magical peoples, and the high levels of magical saturation in the Australian atmosphere actually messes with a lot of weather patterns."

Su blinked at him. "Wow," was all she could say.

Nathan blushed.

"Sorry, I tend to talk a lot. Bea usually stops me before it becomes too much."

"That's okay," Su smiled to assure him. "It was interesting."

"Tell me about yourself, then," Nathan changed the topic, remembering that Beatrice wanted to know more about Su. "How do you live in the muggle world?"

"Well," Su thought about it. "Muggles don't have magic, which doesn't make things harder, exactly – but magic makes things easier. Anyway, because we don't have magic, we have to think of other ways to do things that a wizard might easily do with a wand. Like, instead of using the Floo to get around, we use cars… do you know what cars are? No? Well, they're sort of… self-propelled carts that get driven by muggles. They can hold quite a few muggles at a time, rather than allowing only one traveller at a time, like the Floo does. Although, it's not as fast as the Floo, it's much more comfortable."

"Fascinating," Nathan breathed. "What about Muggle School? Do you go to school?"

Su nodded. "Muggle School doesn't teach magic, so it's mostly theory and academics. We learn a lot though – English and Math and Science and History… that sort of thing."

"English?" Nathan frowned. "I thought they _spoke_ English in Australia."

Su laughed. "We _do_, but English class is about reading and writing skills – and sometimes we analyse language and how it's used for different purposes."

"I see…" Nathan nodded. He could understand the reading and writing part – after all, wizards were taught basic spelling, grammar, and writing skills before Hogwarts, but not much more than that. He wondered if that was why the _Daily Prophet_ was generally so dull, and why muggle-borns tended to write better essays than purebloods.

"Do you learn any other languages?" He asked, since he was already on that track.

"I speak Mandarin, and Cantonese. I lived in Malaysia with my parents for a few years." Su explained. "I tried to learn some French but…" she shrugged. "I just don't have much of a knack for the language."

"That's wonderful!" Nathan exclaimed. "There aren't many wizards in England who can speak any dialect of Chinese. There are my cousins, of course – the Chang's – and a couple of blokes in the Department of International Relations, but really, to get a good conversation, I have to fly back to the Mainland."

Su laughed. "There are a lot of Asian immigrants in Melbourne, so I don't really want for conversation in either dialect. It's kind of fun though, speaking Chinese when no one else can understand. It's like a secret code."

Nathan hummed in agreement, and for a little while, they went back and forth, learning more about each other and slowly adjusting to their new, shared, future.

Nathan learned that Su was considered extremely intelligent, and had skipped several grades, almost four years ahead of her peers. Because of this, Su did not have very many friends as her older classmates found it hard to deal with someone so much younger, and children her own age couldn't relate to her greater experiences. Her parents had put her into a gymnastics club so that she could make friends her own age, and while Su got along with the other girls in her team, they were never very close.

Su learned that Nathan had been a Hufflepuff in school, and that Beatrice had been a Ravenclaw. She giggled when Nathan described his hopeless crush on the 'prettiest prefect', and how it was only near the end of his sixth year, when Beatrice was about to graduate, that he had finally gone on a date with her. The date had been a disaster, but Beatrice had been charmed by Nathan's goofy, caring nature, and had eventually married him. Nathan admitted that he still wasn't sure how that had happened.

For a little while, Su forgot all her problems and just enjoyed herself.

* * *

"Miss Li, welcome to the Department of Mysteries," Madame Locke smiled at the child. Su, while nervous, stood up straight and met Madame Locke's eyes squarely. Locke was delighted with the girl's confidence.

"It's nice to be here, Madame Locke," she said. "Thank you for inviting me. Aunt Beatrice said that you wanted to ask me some questions."

Locke nodded, feeling vaguely uncomfortable about interrogating such a young girl, and no doubt drawing up traumatic memories.

Beatrice had explained the night before to Su about why the Department of Mysteries wanted to speak with her, and had assured her that they would only talk with her if Su were comfortable with it. Su had been surprisingly mature about it, and had said that she dealt with her problems better if she were able to talk and reason them out, and had agreed to the interviews.

Locke had also asked Beatrice to begin to construct a backstory for Su, and the Li's had begun by suggesting that Su was the daughter of some cousins, and had asked the girl to refer to them as 'Aunt Beatrice' and 'Uncle Nate' as part of the ruse.

"I would like to begin, Miss Li, with what you remember before you emerged from the Veil – reliving your death may be hard for you, and if you're uncomfortable, you don't have to answer the question."

Su shook her head. "I don't mind, really. I don't think I was… dead… for very long. It doesn't feel like I ever died, actually. It must have been when I fell into the hole – I thought that I just hit my head, but maybe I broke my neck as well? It wasn't a very interesting death, I suppose. Afterwards though, I was floating in this black space, and there were some silvery-misty clouds floating around. I don't know if that's what death is like, or if I was just on my way to final death, but one of the silver mists wrapped around me, and then I was falling through the Veil."

Locke looked simultaneously delighted and disappointed.

"That's fascinating, Miss Li," she beamed at the girl. "Would you mind… if it's not too much trouble… could you provide a copy of your memory of the incident to the Department? For pensieve research?"

"What's a pensieve?" Su asked, curious.

"It's a bowl, that can hold your memories for observation by others."

"Wow," Su gaped. "That's really cool! Do you have a collection of memories about great battles or speeches or something so that people can observe their history directly? That's probably as good as any movie – that's really cool!"

"We do have a collection of memories relevant to our research," Locke replied, surprised. "But we don't have any memories of great battles or historical events… that is an interesting idea though, I'll put it forward in the next staff meeting."

"Cool," Su grinned. Her excitement was diminishing her vocabulary.

"Well, if you would allow us to take your memory for study, then our next order of business will be your cover story," Madame Locke glanced at Nathan and Beatrice, who stood at Su's back. Su sobered. "It is a terrible thing to have died so young, but we are afraid that your family has likely mourned you for years – perhaps decades – and so we cannot, in good conscious, disrupt their lives by bringing you back to life. This is an unusual phenomenon, and if it came out, we might be bombarded with demands to bring others back to life… but interfering with Death is dangerous."

"Well, why were you experimenting with the Veil then?" Su asked, frowning.

Locke exchanged an amused glance with her right-hand-man, Sherlock Pearl.

"Communication with the dead is not interference, as they are still dead," Pearl told her. "But to bring the dead back to life interferes with the natural order of things… and if no one ever died, then the increasing population will clog the pores of the earth. It would be terribly unhealthy for everyone."

"Right…" Su still looked sceptical, but she understood that sometimes the things that grownups did were beyond her understanding – their minds just worked in strange and complicated ways that, despite her intelligence and maturity, she didn't understand.

"Do you have any suggestions for Su's new past?" Locke asked, though this time her question was directed at Nathan and Beatrice.

"I have many cousins, Madame Locke," Nathan began. "I think that the best story would be that Su's parents recently died in an unfortunate accident – details to be given later – and that they entrusted her care to me. My family won't be surprised; there are many Li's, and our extended family is so, well, _extensive_, that they will hardly notice the gain or loss of imaginary relatives. Obviously, Su has come from Australia, and is quite traumatised by the death of her parents and should not be pushed to discuss her life or family, as it is a sore topic for her – this way we don't really have to think of a story at all. Most of it's true, except for the fact that _Su's_ the one who died in a tragic accident, which really is a sore topic…"

Locke held up a hand. "That sounds fair, Nathan," she smiled at Beatrice's chatty husband.

He was popular in Department of Mysteries for his friendly nature – and also his baking. The Department often drooled over the pies he would send over for his wife and her co-workers, who often vowed that she would never, ever be transferred lest they lose the treat of her husband's baking.

"I'm glad this meeting went by so quickly," she smiled at those gathered. "Beatrice, Sherlock, please stay so that we might organise the proper paperwork here. Nathan, why don't you take your… niece aboveground and buy her a treat?"

"Of course, Madame Locke," Nathan grinned and saluted his wife's boss. "I brought over some pies, too, if you don't mind. Cherry and Apple – they're on Bea's desk."

"Bea, we're good mates, right?" Pearl asked, eyes wide. Beatrice just laughed.

"You get pie _after_ we sort out the paperwork," she said. Pearl enthusiastically dived into the piles of paperwork, throwing his signature around like a madman.

"I'll see you tonight, Nathan, Su," Beatrice smiled.

"Okay, sweetheart," Nathan kissed her swiftly on the lips, Su just waved.

They went to Muggle London and bought some sets of playing cards and board games. Su spent the rest of the day teach Nathan to play Uno and Monopoly.

* * *

Su was beginning to adjust to her new life.

She still cried whenever she thought of the life she left behind, and when she thought that her parents must be distraught over her death… her poor mother must have found her body, and while dying had been unpleasant, the emotional trauma of seeing one's firstborn beloved daughter dead and bleeding in a bit of rocks and mud must be awful.

Still, the wizarding world was fascinating, and so Su distracted herself by learning as much about it as possible, reading books and talking to Aunt Beatrice and Uncle Nate.

Beatrice and Nathan held a dinner in honour of their adoption of Nathan's orphaned 'cousin', and so Su met many of their close friends and family. Beatrice's co-workers were there – Sherlock Pearl and Alfred Yao, as well as Alfred's son Daniel. Nathan's cousin, Cho Chang, and her parents were there, as were Beatrice and Nathan's parents.

There were a lot of people to meet, and to be honest Su couldn't really remember any of their faces in the blur of introductions and grownup conversations about politics and taxes and acquaintances she had never met.

One name, however, caught her attention.

"– and of course there's the whole Harry Potter Mystery." Pearl was saying to Beatrice. "No one's seen him since – he could be dead for all we know!"

"Harry Potter?" Su turned around, finding herself at Beatrice's elbow, eyes wide and curious. She wondered how things had turned out for him, if he had defeated Voldemort and lived happily ever after and all that. She wondered if there was any Harry Potter books in this universe too, so that she could finish reading them.

Pearl glanced at her in surprise before realising – _of course _– she had probably died before Harry had defeated the Dark Lord. Not to mention the facts that she was Australian and a muggle-born, so she'd probably never heard of the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Well," he said, sitting down. "There are some bad people out there in the world, you know that, Su?" She nodded. "Well, wizards can be bad people too, and a few years ago there was one that went really, really bad. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a frightening nightmare for most wizards in England for the better part of a decade."

"Why mustn't 'He' be named?" Su interrupted.

"Pardon?"

"Why can't you say 'his' name?"

"Well," Pearl exchanged a wary glance with Beatrice, but had been told that Su seemed to be a surprisingly mature and sensible child, so he decided to be honest. "During the war, You-Know-Who put a magical taboo on his name. Death Eaters – those were his followers – would attack anyone who said his name, and those who were attacked were often either killed, or tortured into madness. They were dark times, Su, and we owe our current peace to Harry Potter."

"So can you tell me You-Know-Who's name? Or write it down?" Su asked again. "I promise I won't say it – I just want to know."

Beatrice sighed. "Voldemort. His name was Voldemort. No one knows where he came from, or even if that's his real name, but everyone is afraid of him."

Su nodded. "Okay, so Darth Voldie, then," she said, grinning at her own joke. No one else seemed to get it. "You know, like Darth Vader? No? Okay, you guys have to watch Star Wars. If I'm getting an intro to all that is good about wizards, you have to see the cool tricks that muggles have up their sleeves."

"Su?" Beatrice was puzzled. Su just sighed.

"Never mind," she said. "So, Darth Vivi was a nasty man who was defeated by Harry Potter. How? What happened? Did he get blown up, or shot full of bullet holes?"

"We don't know," Pearl admitted. "One night, You-Know-Who went after the Potters – they were some of his greatest adversaries. They were intelligent, and powerful, and very competent fighters. So You-Know-Who went after them directly, and he killed them… but then – and no one knows why – he tried to kill their son. Harry Potter. He was only a baby, but somehow… he survived. And You-Know-Who didn't. Or at least, You-Know-Who was terribly set back."

"So what happened next?" Su asked.

"Nobody knows," Beatrice whispered. "Harry Potter disappeared, though Albus Dumbledore has assured us all that he is safe and alive. I suppose he'd be about your age now, Su. You'll probably go to Hogwarts with him."

"Wait. What?"

"I said you'll probably go to Hogwarts with him." Beatrice repeated. "Oh! Of course! Su – I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I suppose I thought it was obvious – Su, you're a witch. Haven't you found that strange things sometimes happen to you?"

Other than being transported into an Alternate Universe, Su couldn't think of anything. Of course, she had skipped several grades of school, but that was because of her intelligence, not due to magic. She lived a boring, ordinary life before dying.

Her problem was that Harry Potter had been born in 1980, and if he were now her age – nine, almost ten – then it must be 1990. Su had been born in 2005, and had died in 2015. Which meant… the world, as she knew, it did not yet exist.

She had no idea how to deal with this – she didn't know when certain types of technology had been developed or advanced. Mobile phones, computers, the Internet… these were things that had, for her, always existed, but now the muggle world would be almost as alien to her as it was to the wizards.

_Okay, Su_, she thought. _Just take deep, calming breaths._

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Beatrice frowned, kneeling next to the girl.

"What–" Su swallowed, her throat dry. "What year is it?"

"Oh," Beatrice had forgotten that time had probably passed since Su died. "It's 1990. I'm sorry Su, I should have known that you'd have come from a different time."

Su's knees were weak, and could no longer hold her up. She slumped to the floor.

"I'll be okay," she whispered, but she was in shock. "Just… I mean… I'll be okay."

"Come on dear," Beatrice gently led Su to her bedroom. Being told that she was a witch, and that time had moved on without her must have been a very shocking reveal to the poor girl. They could definitely deal with this better tomorrow.

* * *

Su held her breath, clutching the pillow tightly beneath her fingers.

Okay, so she had gone, somehow, back in time. Or maybe… she thought about it… to the beginning of the Universe – this Universe – as J.K. Rowling had imagined it and created it. She wasn't really sure how it had happened… although now that she thought about it, Beatrice had mentioned using time-turners in the Department of Mysteries before Su had emerged from the Veil.

Whatever had happened, Su had somehow gone back in time to just before Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts, which meant that the events in the books had not yet occurred… which meant that the only way she'd know what happened in the rest of the series was to go to Hogwarts and observe it for herself…

* * *

**A/N:** _Okay, so, next chapter – the Paths Diverge – will be our introduction to Harry, and the part where this story really kicks of and separates from Canon. I'll be doing a time-skip from now to just after Harry meets Hagrid and goes to Diagon Alley._

_I'm so excited! If you're excited too, just review and let me know!_


	3. The Paths Diverge

**Author's Note:** _YAY! We get to meet Harry in this Chapter! This is the part of the story that officially diverts from Canon. Also, I've decided that I actually will write one chapter per Book/Year/whatever about what happens to Su in Canon while Harry's off adventuring with Ron and Hermione. It'll be fun!_

* * *

**~ The Paths Diverge ~**

Su was thrilled. She had her Hogwarts letter! It was a dream come true, almost literally. In the past year she had had bouts of accidental magic – most often when she had been pushed for details about her life before coming to live with Aunt Beatrice and Uncle Nate – and so she had eagerly begun to try and control it herself.

No one had told her how difficult it would be to do on her own, and Su had accidentally blown up the back yard when trying to levitate a rock without a wand. After that, Aunt Bea had given her a stern lecture on discipline and responsibility, and had started giving Su meditative lessons.

Su had worried about falling behind in her muggle studies – after all, who can get a job without basic math or English skills? So she had also been taking classes by correspondence in the subjects that she was interested in – Math, English, History, Science, and Literature.

Aunt Bea had warned that Su might not be able to keep up all her classes as formal education during her years at Hogwarts, and had suggested that she choose one or two subjects to continue in, while pursuing others as a hobby. It had been difficult, but Su soon decided to keep her education in Math and Science, as those were the least likely subjects to be related to her Hogwarts education.

She and Uncle Nate had also become very close over the past year, and were thick as thieves, though she still loved Aunt Beatrice dearly. Thinking of her past life still hurt, but it was an old wound now, and remembering the family she'd never see again was like poking an old bruise – sore, but not damaging.

With her Hogwarts letter, all thoughts of her old life had been temporarily banished.

"Well, open it!" Beatrice laughed at Su's wide-eyed wonder.

"Okay!" Su ripped into the letter, gaping at it in awe.

* * *

**_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_**

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf Warlock, Supreme Mugwump. International Confed. Of Wizards.)_

_Dear Miss Li,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

* * *

Su squealed again, gasping with excitement. IT was July 31st _tomorrow_! She had no idea why her owl was so late, but supposed that it might have something to do with the fact that she was heavily involved with the Department of Mysteries and that Madame Locke protected her own heavily with lots and lots of paperwork.

"Okay, sweetheart," Aunt Bea laughed. "Calm down. Diagon Alley isn't going anywhere – we can go shopping tomorrow. What's on your school list?"

Su read the next page.

* * *

**_UNIFORM_**

_First years will require:_

_1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2. One plain pointed hat for daywear (black)_

_3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry nametags._

**_COURSE BOOKS_**

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

**_OTHER EQUIPMENT_**

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad._

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS._

* * *

Su was so giddy with excitement that she could hardly sleep that night.

* * *

In the morning, she and Uncle Nate set out into Diagon Alley to get all her school things, beginning with her robes. Madam Malkin remembered chatty, cheery Nathan Li with fondness, and was delighted by Su's special requests for her robes.

She wanted her sleeves to be a little shorter so that they wouldn't get in the way of potion making or wand waving, she asked politely for a self-cleaning handkerchief so that she would be forever hunting for tissues in winter, and she asked if she might have a scarf and earmuffs for school too.

Madam Malkin agreed to all requests, apart from the scarf, which she informed Su would be provided to her in her house colours by the school when she was sorted, along with ties. The school's under-uniform, however, consisted of black button-up shirts, black skirts or trousers, and black shoes, socks, and stockings. Because she was such a polite little thing, Madam Malkin would be happy to charm her uniform for comfort and durability, and some level of stain-resistance.

Su happily agreed.

At the apothecary, Su spent some hours browsing all the potions ingredients, hand-picking most of her beginner's kit and purchasing for herself a silver cauldron, standard size 3. She was following in Nathan's footsteps as a cook and inventive budding potions master, and was quite keen to ask some older students to help her in her studies.

Nathan decided that they would save the bookshop for last. After seeing how long it took Su to choose her potions ingredients, he imagined that she might take _days_ to choose 'extra-curricular reading' after picking up her standard spell books.

He'd bet Beatrice five galleons that Su would be a Ravenclaw if Bea weren't so positive of the same result herself.

There was some kind of fuss at the Leaky Cauldron, but neither Li paid it any mind.

It took a while to find Su a telescope and set of scales to her liking, but eventually she was ready to buy the last few items – a trunk, a wand, her books, and possibly a pet.

The trunk, surprisingly, was easy enough. It had the basic feather-light charms on it and slight extension charms to fit bulky items like cauldrons and brooms – not that Su had a broom – and could shrink to the size of a matchbox so that Su could easily slip it into her pocket.

She quickly put her recent purchases into her trunk – making sure there was plenty of room for her school books and any new books she might buy or borrow from the large collection in the Li house – and then stepped outside to debate whether she should go purchase her books first, or her wand.

She didn't realise that her decision might change her life.

There, wandering into Ollivander's wand store was a giant of a man with wild black hair and hands the size of dustbin lids. Rubeus Hagrid. Which meant, of course, that the fuss at the Leaky Cauldron must have been Harry Potter, and that the small boy-shaped silhouette in the window must be… Harry Potter.

Su froze.

She could almost see it – the two paths between her. She could go fetch her books from Flourish and Blotts and then get her wand and let events unfold as they already had in her books – in her mind… but if she followed Harry into the wand store, she could have the wish that she'd had ever since she'd learnt to read.

She could befriend one of her favourite characters.

Su was torn. Could she mess with the plot like that? Would the universe allow it? After all, the world already had a path – she had read all about it!

In another life, Su Li turned away from her childhood dream and had wandered into Flourish and Blotts, distracting herself from her confusion by buying as many complicated potions books as possible, and then throwing herself into her studies for the rest of the summer.

In another life, Su Li observed Harry Potter and his friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, from a safe distance, keeping tabs on their little adventures.

In another life, Su Li was forgotten, by everyone except for those that mattered, and if she had a hand in any of Harry Potter's little victories... well then, who was to know but her? She'd make her own life, live in her own world, and she'd watch Harry Potter's story unfold as he grew from child to hero over the next seven years.

Su Li would never know about that other life, because in _this one_ she would take the road Not Taken by JK Rowling. She would turn up a different path. And though she knew that by messing with the plot she would never really learn what truly happened to Harry in the books that she hadn't read, because she would be turning him down a different path instead, but she thought – hoped – that it was worth it.

_I'll be his friend_, Su thought – and it was a determined, but happy promise.

* * *

A magic wand… this was what Harry had been really looking forward to.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read _Ollivanders': Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B. C. _A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait.

Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him, and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice.

Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power, and excellent for transfiguration. Well. I say your father favoured it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose-to-nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where…" Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger. "I'm sorry to say that I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"

He shook his head, and to Harry's relief, spotted Hagrid and began chatting to him about his own wand and mysterious expulsion. Harry distracted himself by looking at the girl who had just entered the store.

She looked to be about his age, and Chinese, maybe. He wasn't sure how to tell the difference between Chinese or Japanese or Vietnamese people. He hoped he wouldn't offend her if he mentioned it. He supposed it was better not to mention it.

She spotted him, and smiled shyly, waving a little.

Harry found himself waving back, and idly wondered if she would be friendlier than the Dudley-like boy from Madam Malkin's. He hoped so; he'd never really had friends.

"Ah, Nathan! How are you my lad?" Ollivander grasped the hand of the man who had entered the store behind the girl. "I remember you, my boy. Hazel! Nine inches! A very handy wand – how has it served you?"

"I'm afraid it was broken, Mr Ollivander," the man replied. "An accident in Peru. I'm not supposed to talk about it of course; Bea and I were there on Unspeakable business. Still, I met a nice Spanish lad who was happy to set me up with… I think that it's eucalyptus, actually. And Bunyip hair – he'd been experimenting in Australia. No need to worry though, Mr Ollivander, it works excellently! I may have to pick up a wand polishing kit though while I'm here…"

The man continued to talk, and the girl continued to smile shyly at Harry. After a moment, he gathered up the courage to go over and talk to her. He noticed her eyes widening, and hoped that she wouldn't get strange on him because he was famous.

Su was studying Harry Potter – he didn't look much like he did in the movies. He was still small, but his face was thinner than Daniel Radcliffe's, and, of course, his eyes were a bright, vibrant green. She wondered if one only came across such a brilliant green in a fictional land – she'd certainly never seen it on anyone in her world.

She was surprised, when he approached her, but quickly quelled the desire to squeal in excitement. She wouldn't like it if that happened to her.

"Hello," Harry began, unsure. "Are you starting Hogwarts this year too?"

Su nodded, unable to speak.

"Um…" Harry couldn't think of anything to say. "Do you know what house you'll be in? I don't really know how the houses work, but everyone I've come across seems to think that they're really, really important."

"Oh? Do they? I suppose in Britain they are. A bit," Su was quite stunned that she'd never really thought about how important the houses were. She'd been a bit distracted by dying – or becoming an orphan as the story went – and hadn't really thought very in depth about the world she was living in. That would have to change.

"Why, though?" Harry insisted.

"Well," Su began. "Students are sorted into their houses based on their personality traits, so each house has developed a sort of stereotype. Slytherins, because they're cunning and ambitious, have gained a reputation for being evil – even though ambitious people can change the world for good as well as bad. Gryffindors, depending on whom you ask, are either brave defenders of justice, or reckless and stupid daredevils. Ravenclaws are the ones interested in learning, so they get labelled as the 'smart' house and have the image of being quiet and studious. Hufflepuffs have a reputation for being the 'leftover' students, or the unwanted ones, but they actually have a very good work ethic and are generally friendly, hardworking, and capably organised. Does that help?"

Harry gaped at her. "Yeah, that does. Thanks."

He thought about the traits the houses looked for, but he wasn't sure if he had any of them. He did work very hard though – so maybe Hufflepuff _was_ an option? Still, he didn't like the way that the blonde boy had sneered at Hufflepuff, or that Hagrid had dismissed them just as easily, though ranking them above Slytherins because Slytherins were 'bad'.

"So… what house do you think that you'll be in?" He asked again.

"I don't know," the girl admitted. "Maybe Ravenclaw, I suppose. I'm not really brave enough for Gryffindor, and Slytherins don't scare me, but I don't really think that I'm ambitious or cunning enough to fit in with them."

"I suppose we won't actually know until we get to Hogwarts," Harry mused.

Su nodded. Ollivander was trying to extract himself from Nathan's conversation. In all honesty, he had forgotten how chatty the boy could be, and there were wands to be sold after all. He glanced at the girl who had accompanied Nathan into the store, and frowned when he realised he didn't recognise her. Odd. Perhaps she was a muggle-born?

"Well now, Mr Potter," he pulled Harry away from the girl in order to escape Nathan's never-ending conversation. He noticed the girl teasing Nathan about his wordiness while he concentrated on Harry. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er – well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.

"Hold out your arm, that's it." Ollivander measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, and so on. As he measured, he explained to harry how each wand had a core, generally unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers, or dragon heartstrings. The tape measure dropped to the floor and Ollivander decided to start looking for a wand.

"My name's Su," said the girl, startling him. She had appeared to his left rather suddenly, and she blushed when he jumped. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"S'okay," Harry mumbled. "I'm Harry."

"It's nice to meet you," she said, smiling.

They were interrupted when Ollivander thrust a wand under Harry's nose.

"Beechwood and dragon heartstring," he said. "Nine inches. Nice and flexible, just take it and give it a wave." Harry took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try it."

Harry tried. This wand, too, was immediately snatched back by Ollivander.

"I wonder how he knows," Su mused. Harry glanced at her. "Whether it's a good wand for you or not. How does he know?"

Harry just shrugged. He knew less about the wizarding world than she did, so he had no clue how Ollivander knew. Maybe it was just a magic thing.

"I'll be with you in just one moment," Ollivander promised distractedly. "Miss…"

"Li, sir. Su Li."

"Of course." The pile of rejected wands grew higher and higher on Ollivander's desk.

"Do you know what your favourite subject will be?" Su asked, as Harry picked up another wand only for Ollivander to take it right back. He was grateful for Su's distraction, sure that if he were alone he would despair of ever finding a wand, while with Su he was only absent-mindedly picking them up and having them snatched away.

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted. "I only learned I was magic yesterday."

"Oh, that would be difficult," Su nodded. "I only learned about a year ago, when I came to live with Uncle Nate and Aunt Beatrice. I'm not allowed to do proper wand magic yet, but I've made loads of potions, so I think that will be fun."

"Really?" Harry asked, curious. "What is Potions like?"

"I suppose it's sort of like cooking, or like medicine… I don't know. You can do lots of things with potions – it's really fascinating. In some ways potions are better than spells, but in other ways spells are better than potions. Potions take time to brew, of course, but spells are limited by the power and ability of the caster as well… it's interesting."

"Wow, I think I'll take a look at my potions books tonight," Harry grinned.

Su grinned back.

Ollivander was positively beaming. "Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere – I wonder, now – yes, why not – unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light onto the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped, and both Su and Nathan applauded politely.

"Oh, bravo!" Ollivander cried. "Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well… how curious… how very curious." He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering. "Curious… curious… very curious."

"Sorry," Harry interrupted, "but what's curious?"

Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare, not paying any mind to their audience.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr Potter," he said. "Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard remember… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."

Harry shivered, and was grateful when Su's father interrupted Ollivander's frighteningly intense trance.

"I'm sorry to rush you along, Mr Ollivander," he said. "But Su is still in need of a wand, and Beatrice _is_ expecting us both for dinner, you understand."

Ollivander snapped out of it. "Yes, yes, of course."

There was a little bit of hesitation when Ollivander tried to measure Su's wand hand only to find that she was ambidextrous – ("Mum wanted to keep my options open… whatever that means.") – but eventually they decided that she favoured her left hand.

Harry and Su chatted amiably about nothing at all, and with a much smaller pile of wands than Harry, Su finally found her match.

"Ebony, dragon heartstring, seven inches. A good wand for charms work – I wouldn't be surprised, Miss Li, if you had much in common with Lily Evans… er, Potter."

"Thank you, Mr Ollivander," Nathan paid the necessary galleons, and then he, Hagrid, Su, and Harry stepped out into the alley, amongst the thinning afternoon crowd.

"Do you have anything left to buy?" Su asked Harry, who shook his head. "Oh, well, I still have to get my books… maybe we could get some ice cream?" With this, she peered up at her chaperone through long-lashed black eyes. She looked very sweet and innocent like that, but Harry saw there was a crooked line in the corner of her mouth that gave away her sly, teasing intentions.

Nathan was torn. He knew how long Su tended to take in bookstores, and he wanted to be home in time to make dinner for Beatrice – ice cream would put them very much behind schedule, but he found it hard to deny her when she looked at him like that.

Su laughed, and decided to stop teasing her 'Uncle Nate'.

"I suppose not, Harry," she smiled at him. "I guess I'll just see you on the train then. I hope we can be friends at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded. "Me too."

"Well, let me know what you think of potions, and if you have any questions, I have extra books that explain some of the terms and ingredients." She blushed. "I'll admit, I'm a little bit of a geek… you don't mind, do you?"

Harry shook his head and grinned at her. "Not at all." _His first friend!_

Su and Nathan walked away, both smiling and laughing and chatting away – Harry watched them go with a smile. But as they disappeared into Flourish and Blotts, his smile faded.

He was quiet on the way back into muggle London – he didn't even notice the stares that he and Hagrid received, with all their odd packages and Hagrid's bulky frame. He hardly noticed what he was eating when Hagrid bought him a hamburger and they sat on the plastic seats outside McDonalds.

"You all right, Harry?" Hagrid asked. "Yer very quiet."

Harry wasn't sure he could explain. He'd just had the best birthday of his life – and yet – he chewed his hamburger, trying to find the words.

"Everyone thinks I'm special," he said at last. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr Ollivander… but I don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Vol– sorry – I mean, the night my parents died."

Hagrid smiled. "Don't you worry, Harry. You'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. You'll make plenty o' friends o' course – like that girl! What was her name?"

"Su," Harry smiled.

"See, Harry, just stick by yer friends and jus' be yerself. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always had. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts – I did – still do, matter o' fact."

Hagrid helped Harry onto the train that would take him back to the Dursleys, then handed him an envelope with the Hogwarts crest on it.

"Yer ticket fer Hogwarts," he said. "First o' Spetember, Kings Cross Station – it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl. She'll know where to find me. See you soon, Harry."

The train pulled out of the station. Harry sat there, clutching his ticket into a new world, thinking of the new things he'd learned and the new friends he'd made…

Life was looking up.

* * *

She was haunted by nightmares that night – dreams of a Hufflepuff Harry being eaten by a snake – or maybe a Basilisk – and a laughing man who may or may not have been Lord Voldemort standing over her own dead body and the world was in flames.

She woke up breathing hard, feeling cold even though the summer sun was filtering through her window already.

What if she had made a mistake? What if, by befriending Harry, she had thrown off the course of the predetermined plot, in which, obviously, the good guys won? What if, by diverging from the path, she had doomed the world? What could she possibly offer Harry? She didn't have a family of friendly, accomplished brothers like Ron Weasley. She didn't know everything about everything, like Hermione Granger.

She was nothing at all. She wasn't even supposed to be here.

_Well, it's too late now,_ she thought to herself. _I'll just have to make myself into something worth something. I'm a part of this story now – I might as well make it interesting._

* * *

**A/N: **_So... breaking from Canon. I mean, apart from the pieces from Harry's section that I blatantly plagiarised directly from the Diagon Alley chapter in the Philosopher's Stone – I thought it would be easier to keep everyone in character if I stuck as close to the book as possible right up until the moment when I actually broke with canon... obviously only a little bit is the same, considering that Su shows up pretty quickly..._

_Reviewing is a really easy way to give your opinion - I welcome it..._


	4. The Hogwarts Express

**Author's Note:** _The Hogwarts Express... I'm doing this in two parts: one from Su's POV, and one from Harry's. They'll both be differing from canon - although, I suppose, Su's 'canon' is all fanon anyway... still._

_I expect, if all goes well, that at the end of each 'book' I'll write what happens to Su in canon, so that we can compare the Road Not Taken with the Road... that was Taken... by JK Rowling... which means, by the way, that I don't own this universe. Just sayin'._

* * *

**~ The Hogwarts Express ~**

Su wandered around Platform Nine and Three quarters looking for Harry Potter, or perhaps some other character that she might recognise. Unfortunately the crowd was thick, and she and Nathan and Beatrice had arrived later than they'd planned.

She hadn't known that the kitchen stove could be so skittish on special occasions – she decided that she preferred muggle stoves after that morning's breakfast hassle. They might not be as interesting, but non-magical objects were far less temperamental.

Harry wasn't anywhere to be found. Su sighed. Well, she'd at least managed to find herself a compartment near the back of the train – she hoped it would be quiet – and she was pretty sure that Harry had originally gone to a compartment near the back.

Well, if she found him, she could either sit with him, or invite him to sit with her.

Really the only other person she knew was her cousin, Cho, and aside from enjoying reading, they didn't really have much in common. Cho was interested in divination and herbology, while Su much preferred charms and potions.

Still, she waved to Cho when she saw her.

"You'll want to get on the train," someone said to her. She turned around to find herself face to face with a handsome, dark-skinned boy. She guessed that he was a first year like her, because his uniform was plain black, not trimmed with his house colours in the way that the older students had. "It'll be leaving soon."

"Oh, of course," she blushed. "Thank you."

She climbed into the carriage, followed by the boy.

"I'm Blaise, by the way," he told her as they shuffled down the crowded hall of the train. "Blaise Zabini. I'm a first year, too."

"Su. Li." She shook his outstretched hand.

He ducked into a compartment, and Su followed, to avoid being crushed by the crowd. She'd go find Harry later, when there was less traffic. Inside the compartment was a thin boy with pale skin and white-blond hair flanked by two other boys who resembled gorillas. Su guessed that the trio was Draco Malfoy and his bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle. Sitting opposite the boys were four girls; one almost as big as Malfoy's bodyguards, one sallow-skinned and pug-faced, and two blonde and delicate.

"Su, this is Vincent Crabbe, Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and Sally-Anne Perks. Everyone, this is Su Li."

Su waved shyly at the collection of soon-to-be-Slytherins. She'd never liked Draco Malfoy's character in the books, but the others did not feature as much, so she was unsure of what to expect from them.

"So, Li," Malfoy drawled, slouching in his seat. Again, he did not look very much like his film counterpart. For one thing, his hair was long, and braided down his back with a fine silk ribbon. His face was not quite as pointed as the book had described, but there was certainly a quality of being pinched – as if he spent many hours each day sneering at everyone and everything. "What house do you think you'll be in?"

"I'm not sure," Su admitted. "I mean, no one really knows 'til they're sorted, but I'm pretty sure that I can eliminate Gryffindor. I'm not very brave."

Malfoy snorted, which meant that everyone else in the compartment followed suit.

"Gryffindors," he sneered. "They think they're better than everyone else – strutting about the halls because they have no respect for proper authority… Well, I'll show them. I'll be in Slytherin, of course – it's the place for leaders, after all."

"Well," Su frowned. "I suppose it depends on what _type_ of leader. Gryffindors, no doubt, would lead others into battle, and Ravenclaws would lead the fields of research and development, and Hufflepuffs–"

"Hufflepuffs are entirely useless," Malfoy interrupted. "They're a joke. It's a wonder that house exists at all… but there must be a place for mudbloods, at the least."

"Hufflepuffs," Su continued, glaring at Malfoy, who bristled under her gaze, " are the type of leaders to be properly organised and actually get things done. Slytherins are the political leaders; wheeling and dealing types who never trust anybody because they expect everyone to be as sneaky as they are."

Blaise laughed, surprising Su and everyone else in the compartment.

"I like you," he admitted. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, Li. Slytherin or Ravenclaw is my bet on you."

"Well," Su eyed Malfoy carefully. "Thank you."

"Has anyone seen a toad?" A chubby boy appeared in the doorway, looking forlorn. "Trevor's run off again."

Malfoy sneered, and Millicent and Pansy snickered at the boy's distress.

"A toad, Longbottom?" Malfoy drawled. "How dreadful. You know, it might be for the best that the thing falls beneath the train. It'll put us all out of its misery."

"Don't be mean," Su snapped, and she turned around to offer the boy her help, but he'd already run off – probably too used to Malfoy to expect any assistance.

"I'm off then," Malfoy stood up, pushing past Su into the now-emptier hallway. "Father said that Harry Potter would be at Hogwarts this year, and that I'm expected to make an impression. We can't let him fall in with the wrong sort, after all." He eyed Su disdainfully, clearly believing her to be the 'wrong sort'.

Su watched him go, glad to be rid of him.

"Well, he's just _rude_," she said, causing Blaise to snicker some more. She didn't notice the glares that Pansy and Millicent sent her way, or see Daphne and Sally-Anne setting aside some galleons for a small bet while eyeing the other two girls.

The door was pushed open again, and this time there stood another dark-skinned first year. At first Su thought he might be Blaise's brother, but where Blaise's features were rather sharply handsome, and aloofly regal, this boy's face was open and broad.

He was also taller than Blaise, which bothered Su because she was quite small for her age and had to crane her neck to look up at him.

"Hi," he said, grinning nervously. "Is there any room in here? The train is packed, and I can't find anywhere to sit."

"Well, there's some space," Su scooted closer to Blaise and offered the seats that Draco and his goons had just moments before. "I'm Su. Su Li."

"Dean Thomas," he shook her hand. "Are you a first year too? Isn't it exciting? I'd no idea that magic even existed last year, and now I'm going to learn it!"

"Ugh, a mudblood," Pansy groaned. "What do you know of the wizarding world? You're not a part of it. I don't see why respectable witches and wizards like us have to put up with the likes of savages like _you_."

Dean froze, confused, but Su stiffened, indignant.

"Savages?" she asked, her voice cool. "What would you know about savages?"

Pansy snorted. "Muggles are all savages," she said. "Barbarians the lot of them, bumbling about without magic and burning witches and running about like wild things. They've overrun the world! Why do we even bother to hide from the fools? We shouldn't have to pander to the common rabble."

"I see," Su stood up and drew herself up to her full height – which wasn't much – and adopted an impressively cold and aloof expression. Blaise was impressed.

Su was generally rather level headed, and it took a great deal to provoke her temper, but if there was one thing that she could not stand, it was stupidity...

"While wizards are very impressive, they are resting on their laurels – which in this case means that they have grown complacent – and rely far too much on magic to solve everything. Progress, both technological and social, has come to a standstill. Meanwhile, your so called savages are doing things with their own brand of magic that wizards can only dream of – they are unlocking the secrets of the human body, sending themselves to the moon, and can communicate with each other at any time in any place. The muggle world is a very big place, and it is growing bigger every day, so you can keep your small, wizarding world – I have much grander plans for my life."

Dean gaped at her, still confused. Su linked his arms with hers and swept out of the compartment, nodding at Blaise, who grinned in return, and leaving a gobsmacked Pansy Parkinson behind. She didn't see Daphne smirk and collect her galleons from Sally-Anne, nor did she see the way that Pansy and Millicent glared at her retreating back and begin whispering to each other, plotting their revenge on the mudblood lover.

"Come on Dean, let's find us some company with manners," she said, as she stalked down the corridor, dragging a bewildered Dean Thomas in her wake.

"So uh… what was that about?" He asked, as Su peaked into compartment after compartment, looking for either Harry or perhaps a Weasley… or even Neville Longbottom. Anyone was better than Pansy Parkinson.

"Oh, sorry," she blushed, realising that he _was_ new to the whole wizarding world and didn't understand the prejudices held by the pureblood elite. "It's terrible that you have to see that – pretty embarrassing, actually. It's just… you'll find that some wizards are under the impression that they're superior to muggles – er, non-magical people… actually, now that I think about it, most wizards think that they're better than muggles."

"So… they're racist?" Dean asked. He'd dealt with a few racist teachers in primary school, and while they were few and far between, they were thoroughly unpleasant.

"Pretty much," Su nodded, and sighed. "They think that people like you – who's parents are muggles and who grew up without knowing about magic – are inferior… I mean, sure, wizards have a few bizarre customs and are pretty different culturally speaking, but being immersed in the wizarding world from age eleven means that most wizards – muggle-born or not – are on about the same level by the time they graduate."

"Huh," Dean nodded, and then grinned when he saw who was in the compartment that Su was now peering into. "Hullo, Seamus!"

"Dean! You made it!" Seamus Finnegan ushered the taller boy into the compartment, not even noticing Su. "Boys, this is Dean Thomas – met him in Diagon Alley last month. Dean, this is Ernie, and Justin. Justin's a muggle-born too; you guys can talk about football and stuff. Or cricket – hey Ernie! What's this about the Arrows and the Cannons? Couldn't Casey see the snitch? I mean it's understandable that…"

Su watched, bemused, as Seamus talked Quidditch with Ernie McMillan, and Dean fell into an easy conversation about football versus cricket with Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Bye Dean, see you at school," she waved at him, smiling when he waved back. Stepping out into the corridor, she was nearly bowled over by Neville Longbottom.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, once she'd regained her balance. "You're looking for your toad, right?" He nodded. "Well, let's go find an older student to summon it. I'm Su, by the way."

"Neville," the other boy shook her hand, looking nervous, but also grateful.

The next compartment over contained the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan, excitedly discussing ways in which they might use Lee's tarantula in a prank. Fred – or maybe George – happily stepped into the corridor and waved his wand – ("_Accio_ Trevor the toad!"). Soon enough, the poor pet zoomed right into Neville's face, looking rather unhappy. Su thanked the twins and suggested turning the spider pink, just for the heck of it – the twins happily agreed that it could be fun.

"Come on Neville," Su grinned. She'd just met some of her favourite characters in the books – she remembered that Harry had given his prize money from the tri-wizard tournament to the twins, and she wondered what they were going to do with it.

She supposed that she'd never learn now – but to meet them in person!

Worth it.

Another girl with wildly bushy hair stalked imperiously up the corridor towards them, Su imagined that this must be Hermione Granger.

She _did_ have rather large teeth, which was a detail that Su had forgotten up to this point. Neither was she quite as pretty as Emma Watson, though she was hardly hideous.

Su marvelled, however, at the way in which Hermione made herself seem so imposing, though she was hardly taller than Su herself – perhaps it had something to do with all that hair…?

"Neville, I can't find your toad _anywhere_," she cried. "Although I _did_ meet Harry Potter – his scar is _exactly_ as described in _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"You've met Harry?" Su jumped in. "Do you know which compartment he's in?"

Hermione looked rather put off by this question. "I'm sure he doesn't need anyone gawking at him – celebrities like their privacy after all. Also, you should probably change into your robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon. Oh, Neville, you've found your toad! Marvellous… well, I'm going to read the next chapter of _Hogwarts; a History_ – did you know that there's a village of merpeople in the Black Lake?"

With that, Hermione strode into one of the nearby compartments and, presumably, flung herself back into her book, leaving Su to wonder if her favourite character in the whole series had always been so abrasive in personality.

"Well, I guess I'll go back to my compartment…" Neville murmured, looking miserable. "I mean, I've got Trevor now."

"Do you know where Harry is?" Su turned around. "I promised him I'd see him on the train, but I don't know where he is. Could you get changed into your robes and then help me find him? Please?"

"Uh, sure," Neville offered her a weak smile, and Su beamed back at him. "I'll be right back, promise." He ran into his compartment to change, while Su pulled her shrunken robes out of her pocket and tapped them with her wand to enlarge them. She was already wearing her standard black uniform – shirt, skirt, stockings etc.

She tried to remember what she'd read of Neville, but he hadn't really featured much. She knew that he was timid, and didn't have many friends, but that he was a soft-spoken and kind boy, with a talent for herbology.

He wasn't anything special, as far as Su could tell, but then again, neither was she.

She hoped they could be friends.

Neville emerged after a few moments, and Su beamed at him, then they set off to find Harry Potter…

* * *

Harry woke up at five o'clock on September first, and was too excited to go back to sleep. He dressed quickly, checked and double-checked his trunk, making sure that he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage, and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to wake up.

To pass the time, he picked up the potions book, which he'd been reading all through August. It was very similar to cooking – which had become Harry's favourite chore that summer, pretending that he was cooking up sinister poisons and potions to turn his uncle into a hippo and his aunt into a giraffe – but some of the instructions didn't make much sense to him.

What difference did it make whether he stirred the pot clockwise or widdershins? Was it important that his knife be silver when gutting newts, but be sharpened granite when dissecting salamanders?

He hoped that Su would be able to explain the 'magical' part of potions to him – following instructions was all well and good, but if he didn't understand what he was doing, then what was the point?

All his other textbooks made even less sense, because the techniques referenced weren't things that he understood, and the book that was supposed to explain them – _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling – was very dense, and Harry suspected that even armed with a dictionary he'd find it difficult to make heads or tails of the tome.

Eventually though, Harry's huge, heavy trunk was loaded into the Dursleys' car, and they had set off, reaching King's Cross at half past ten.

"Well, there you are, boy," Vernon smirked. "Platform Nine – platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?" He chortled, looking rather like an ape as he did so.

"Have a good term," he sneered, and then he was off, leaving Harry to fend for himself. Harry watched him drive away with Aunt Petunia and Dudley, and they were all laughing. Harry's mouth went dry.

What was he going to do? He was starting to attract a lot of attention, too – he was a little boy, all alone on the platform, with an owl in a cage perched on his trunk.

Surely he wasn't the only wizard around? Harry began to look around desperately for someone who looked unusual or out-of-place or otherwise special, but he couldn't find _anyone_ and he was starting to panic.

It was already ten forty five, and the train left at eleven. What if it left without him? What if he couldn't get to Hogwarts? He'd be stranded in the middle of the station with a trunk he could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money, a large owl, and family that wasn't coming back for him 'til December.

Hagrid must have forgotten to tell him the trick to it – like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. He wondered if he should get out his wand and start tapping the ticket inspector's stands between platforms nine and ten.

He hoped it wouldn't come to that – he expected he'd look rather silly.

At that moment, a group of people with varying shades of red hair passed just behind him, and he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"– packed with Muggles, of course –"

Harry almost rolled his eyes. They were in a Muggle train station, what did they expect? Still, he was rather keen on _not_ missing the train to Hogwarts and a new and exciting life away from Dudley and his gang, so he swung round and watched a rather plump woman walk by with four boys and a girl – quite clearly, her children.

Each of the boys was pushing a trunk like Harry's in front of him – and one of them had an owl. Yep, they were definitely wizards.

Heart hammering, Harry pushed his cart after them. They stopped, and so did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying.

"All right, Percy, you go first," the woman was saying to one of her sons, whilst ignoring her daughter – who looked just a little younger than Harry – who was tugging on her sleeve and begging to go to Hogwarts.

"Mum, _please_," the girl pouted.

"Next year, Ginny," the woman hummed. "Next year."

Harry watched the oldest boy – must be Percy – march towards the barrier dividing platforms nine and ten, but just as he reached the barrier, a large crowd of tourists came swarming past, and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy was gone.

"Fred, you next," the plump woman gestured to her next son.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother? It's only been almost fourteen years."

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking," the boy grinned. "I am Fred." Off he went, with his twin – George, Harry guessed – called after him to hurry up. He must have done so, because a moment later, he had disappeared… but how had he done it?

The third brother was walking briskly towards the barrier, and then he was gone as well – Harry had no idea how they were doing it.

There was nothing else for it – he'd have to ask.

"Excuse me," Harry tapped the plump woman on the shoulder, dragging his cart behind him. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

"Hello, dear," she said, smiling down at him. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too." She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall and thin and lanky, with big hands and feet and a long, freckled nose.

"Yes, I'm new," Harry said. "The thing is… you see… I don't know how to–"

"How to get onto the platform?" The woman finished his question, radiating with motherly kindness and gentle understanding. Harry nodded.

"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier. Don't stop and don't be scared that you'll crash into it – best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now, before Ron does."

"Er, okay." Harry wasn't entirely sure about this – but he was going to a magic school – surely they'd have some sort of magical secret entrance to their magical platform?

Still, the barrier looked very solid.

He started to walk towards it – but it was already ten to eleven – so he began to walk a little more quickly. He was going to crash – he was going to break everything and kill Hedwig and Hagrid would be so disappointed and Vernon would laugh at Harry for falling for such a silly trick…

Harry closed his eyes and braced for impact. But it never came.

He opened his eyes, amazed. There was a scarlet steam engine waiting next to a platform full of people. He looked behind him and saw a wrought iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters_ on it.

He grinned. This. Was. Awesome.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the windows to talk to their families, and some fighting over their seats.

He pushed his cart forward, looking for an empty seat, and passed a round-faced boy lamenting his lost toad, and another boy with dreadlocks holding a tarantula in a cardboard box. Over there was a pretty Chinese girl dressed in blue, chatting with her friends – Harry wondered if she was related to Su.

Finally he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Hedwig inside first, and then started to move his trunk. Well, he tried to, anyway – but Harry was not a very healthy boy, and he was only eleven, and the trunk weighed almost three times as much as he did.

It didn't move very far.

"Want a hand?" Someone asked. It was one of the redheaded twins that he'd followed through the barrier. He wondered if this one was Fred or George.

"Yes, please," he panted.

"Oi! Fred! C'mere and help!" George shouted.

With the twins' help, Harry's trunk was eventually tucked into a corner of the compartment – it was five to eleven now, the train was about to leave.

"Thanks," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"What's that?" One of the twins asked, peering at Harry's scar.

"Blimey," said the other. "Are you…?"

"He is," said the first. "Aren't you?"

"Am I what?"

"Harry Potter," chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Harry – right, of course, famous for surviving infancy. Well. "I mean, yes, I am. Harry Potter I mean."

The two boys gaped at him, and Harry felt rather uncomfortable – he wondered if he could distract them from his being… well, _him_. _Change the topic_, he thought.

"So, who are you then?" He asked. The twins snapped out of it.

"He's George," said the one who'd called his brother Fred before, pointing left.

"I'm Fred," said Fred, pointing at his brother.

"And I'm George," said George, pointing to himself.

"Yep," Fred agreed. "I'm George."

Harry was thoroughly confused. The twins laughed.

"Only joking," one said. "I'm Fred – or at least I think I am – we get mixed up so often even we're not sure who's who."

"Oh," Harry frowned. "Is that difficult?"

The twins shrugged. "We don't mind – and it's good for a laugh. Luna can always tell though – dunno how she does it."

"Luna?" Harry frowned, but the twins had been called by their mother and weren't listening.

"Coming, Mum!" They called. "Bye Harry, see you at school." They waved at him, before running off to say a last goodbye to their mother, who was wiping something off the youngest son's nose.

Harry watched the family interact, feeling a pang of loneliness as the twins teased their prefect brother – Percy, wasn't it? – and then were threatened by their mother, who mentioned something about blowing up toilets…

They looked so happy – so comfortable and content. Harry longed for a family like that – he dreamed that the Dursleys _would_ leave him at an orphanage one day, and that he'd be adopted into a family with a hundred children – and they'd all be friends, and be so happy…

_Well_, he thought, _I guess I sort of have got my dream. I've been adopted by the wizarding world, and I'm going to school with hundreds of children…_ He smiled.

He was so caught up in his daydreams about learning magic and making friends that he hardly noticed when the train took off. He did, however, notice when the door of the compartment slid open and the youngest redhead – Jon? – walked in.

"Anyone sitting there?" He asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head, and the boy sat down. He kept glancing at Harry sideways, and then looking away again. Harry suppressed the urge to sigh – he hoped that people would act normally around him – he hoped for more friends like Su.

"Hey Ron!" The twins were back. "Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train – Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula. Wanna see?"

"No thanks," mumbled Ron, looking rather pale.

"Harry," one of the twins grinned at him. "Wanna come?" He shook his head. "All right – hey, I'll see you at school, yeah? Hope you get into Gryffindor – we'll have loads of fun!"

They winked at him, and then disappeared into the corridor, sliding the door shut.

For a moment the compartment was silent.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out.

Harry nodded. Ron's eyes widened.

"So you've… you've really got the…" he pointed at Harry's forehead.

Ugh.

"Yes," Harry said. He'd hoped that he might meet more friends like Su, who treated him like just another person – he prayed that Ron was a rare case of star-struck. The twins had seemed pretty reasonable once they'd gotten over their initial shock.

"Wow," Ron breathed. "So that's where You-Know-Who…?"

"Yes," said Harry, "but I can't remember it." _Please, no more questions_.

"Nothing?"

"Well," Harry thought about it. "I remember a lot of green light – but really, nothing else. I was only a baby, after all."

"Wow," Ron said again. He sat and stared at Harry, who squirmed. Ron realised what he was doing, blushed as red as his hair, and quickly looked out the window.

Well. This was awkward.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry – he thought the idea of an all-magical family sounded brilliant – much better than the Dursleys' 'normalcy'.

"Er, yes, I think so," Ron frowned. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant… but we never talk about him." Huh.

"So you must know loads of magic already," Harry prompted. Ron's family was clearly one of those wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.

Ron just shrugged.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," he said. "What are they like?"

"Horrible," Harry shuddered at the thought of his family. "Well – not all of them. Muggles, I mean. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I had three wizard brothers – must be fun."

"Five," said Ron, looking gloomy. "Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was head boy and Charlie was Quidditch Captain. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat grey rat, which was asleep.

"His name's Scabbers, and he's useless," Ron moaned. "He hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff – I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Harry didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl, or getting hand-me-downs – at least Ron's hand-me-downs fit. Harry had had to punch new holes in one of Dudley's old belts so that he could keep his pants up. He'd be glad to change into the school uniform later – at least it would fit.

He wondered where Su was – she said she'd meet him on the train, didn't she?

He sighed, and pulled out his potions textbook, puzzling over a cure for boils. Boils weren't a problem anymore, for muggles. At least, not as far as he knew. Maybe this was an antidote to a boils-inducing potion… or maybe a hex?

Harry wasn't sure. Did wizards have solutions to everything with magic, or were there limits to what they were able to do. Again, he felt that Su would be able to tell him.

"Are you reading?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"Well," Harry shrugged. "I mean, I don't really know anything about the wizarding world, growing up without magic. I didn't know I was a wizard until last month. I didn't anything about my parents, or Voldemort–"

Ron gasped.

"What?"

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" Ron exclaimed, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people–"

"That's just what I'm talking about," Harry sighed. "I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name. I just never knew that I shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn. I bet," and here he admitted a quiet fear he'd been harbouring. "I bet I'm the worst in the class. Everyone expects be to be brilliant, but I won't be."

"Nonsense," Ron replied, waving his hand dismissively and sounding like a normal person for once. "There's loads of people who come from muggle families, and they learn quick enough – everyone's about even, really."

"I suppose," Harry acknowledged.

Still, it didn't hurt to brush up, and so he went back to his potions textbook.

A while later, a dimpled, smiling woman came by with a cart full of sweets – Harry, who hadn't eaten breakfast, and who had never been able to afford anything, let alone an array of sweets, bought a little of everything, fascinated by the odd names.

Ron gaped at the small mountain of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans and Chocolate Frogs and Cauldron Cakes that Harry had dropped onto the seat. Harry saw Ron looking, and grinned.

"Want some?" he asked. "I don't think I can finish all this myself."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure," Harry waved at the massive mound of foods, stuffing a pumpkin pasty into his mouth. "There are loads here. Go ahead. What's this?"

He held up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not real frogs, are they?"

"No," said Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

"Oh, right," Ron's ears went red. "You wouldn't know – Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them. You know, to collect – famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolmey."

"Oh," Harry understood. Sort of. "Like Pokémon, or Yu-Gi-Oh."

"What?" Ron asked, through a mouthful of Chocolate Frog.

"Never mind." Harry unwrapped his card, revealing an elderly man with half-moon spectacles, a long, crooked nose, and long silver hair. It was labelled 'Albus Dumbledore'.

"So this is Dumbledore!" Harry cried. "Been wondering about him."

He turned his card over and read:

**Albus Dumbledore**

_Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts._

_Considered by many to be the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicholas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling (a muggle sport)._

Harry turned the card back over and found to his astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," Ron mumbled, through a mouthful of Cauldron Cake this time. "He'll be back." He began muttering about the card he'd gotten, and moaning about never getting the ones he wanted. When he eyed the pile of remaining frogs, Harry gestured absently for Ron to help himself.

"In the muggle world, people stay put in photos."

"Do they? They don't move at all?" Ron gaped. "Weird!"

Ron cheerfully gave Harry all the cards that he already had copies of at home – that is to say, most of them – while Harry examined the bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Ron gave him fair warning about the dangers of the things, and was lucky enough to get mostly decent flavours – though he did pull a face when a lemon juice flavoured bean turned out to be particularly sour.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment, and the round-faced boy Harry had passed on the platform came in, looking miserable.

"Have you seen a toad anywhere?" He asked. Ron and Harry shook their heads. The boy sighed. "I've lost him! I always do! I lose everything."

"He'll turn up," said Harry. "I'm sure you'll find him."

"I hope so," the boy turned around. "Well, if you see him around, please tell me."

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," Ron shook his head. "If I'd brought a toad, I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk." He poked the rat with his wand, but it kept sleeping. "He might have died and you wouldn't notice the difference. Stupid beast."

Harry wondered vaguely if Ron complained about _everything_. It certainly seemed so.

"I tried to turn him yellow yesterday, to make him more interesting," Ron went on. "It didn't work though. Here, I'll show you – look…"

He had just raised his wand when the door slid open again. This time there was a girl in her new Hogwarts robes, standing with her hands on her hips.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening. She was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh," she blinked. "Are you doing magic? Let's see it then."

Harry thought she sounded like his math teacher, asking him to answer a question.

She sat down next to Ron, peering at him intently.

"Er, right," he cleared his throat. "_Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow: turn this stupid, fat rat yellow_!" He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers was still grey, and still sleeping. Ron poked him with his wand again – still nothing.

The arched one unimpressed eyebrow.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" She asked. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells myself – just for practice – and it's all worked for me." She pointed her wand at Harry's face. "_Reparo._"

His glasses were fixed.

"Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course. I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've learned all our course books by heart, of course. I just hope it will be enough."

Harry wondered if the girl ever stopped talking.

"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," she thrust her hand under Ron's nose, startling him. "And you are?"

"Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter."

"Are you really?" She squinted at him, and then launched into another monologue, with barely any pauses for breath. "I've read all about you of course – I got a few extra books, for background reading – and you're in _Modern Magical History_, and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"Am I?" Harry was feeling a little dazed.

"Goodness! Didn't you know?" Hermione looked aghast. "I'd have found out everything I could if it was me." It looked as though she had, which was good for her, though Harry wished she'd at least stop for breath.

She went on;

"Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor – it sounds by far the best. I hear Dumbledore himself was in it… but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be_too_bad. Anyway, I'd better go look for Trevor's toad. You two had better change, you know. I expect we'll be arriving soon."

She swept out of the compartment, leaving a bewildered Harry and Ron in her wake.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," Ron glared at the door, and threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell. George gave it to me – bet he knew it was a dud."

"What house are your brothers in?" Harry asked.

"Gryffindor," Ron sighed. Gloomed settled over his shoulders like a cloak. "Mum and Dad were in it too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not a Gryffindor. Ravenclaw wouldn't _too_ bad – and Hufflepuff…" He shuddered. "Anything but Slytherin."

"What's wrong with Slytherin?" Harry asked, rather put off by this rather moody boy. Happy, energetic, gloomy, sullen – honestly, he had more mood swings than a pendulum.

"That's the house You-Know-Who was in," Ron said. _Obviously, _Harry thought, _all Dark Lords must be Slytherins. Kind of like saying all fascist dictators are German._

The door slid open again, this time revealing three boys. Harry recognised the middle one at once: the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" He lounged against the doorframe and a manner that might have been intimidating if he were taller, and less scrawny. "Are you Harry Potter?"

"Yes." Harry thought that if the pale boy reminded him of Dudley in character, then his two friends were reminiscent of his cousin in shape – big, blocky, and mean looking.

Standing on either side of the boy, they looked like bodyguards – it was actually pretty funny, seeing this kid his own age act like someone important.

"This Crabbe," the pale boy gestured left, "and Goyle," right, "and my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." He held out his hand to shake, but was distracted by Ron's snigger.

Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. Red hair, hand-me-down robes, and no manners. You must be a Weasley." He sneered. Ron seethed.

Malfoy turned back to Harry.

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

He was about to say something witty and cool, but was interrupted by the door sliding open, once again revealing Neville Longbottom, this time accompanied by Su Li.

"Su!"

"Harry!" He was quite surprised to find himself wrapped in a hug, but Su had stepped back by the time he'd thought that he should probably hug back.

"I've been looking all over for you!" She exclaimed.

Malfoy cleared his throat.

"Li."

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

"I came to introduce myself to Potter," Malfoy sneered at her and Neville. "Clearly, however, he has chosen to fall in with less proper characters."

"I think our definitions of proper character might vary," Harry retorted.

"Watch out Potter – stupidity's catching," Malfoy sniffed. "You hang out with Weasleys or Hagrid long enough, and you'll end up like your parents. Dead in a ditch."

Both Harry and Ron stood up, glaring at Malfoy and his goons. Neville drew Su further into the compartment, though she was itching to slap the smirk off Malfoy's face.

"Say that again, Malfoy," Ron warned.

Malfoy scoffed.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?"

"Unless you leave. Now," Harry threatened, sounding braver than he felt, because Crabbe and Goyle were bigger than him or Ron. Bigger than Dudley, even.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys?" Malfoy drawled. "We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Harry wasn't entirely sure what happened next, but somewhere in the mess, Scabbers bit Goyle, who howled and whacked Crabbe in the face trying to shake the thing off. Malfoy managed to duck out of the chaos and escape out the door. Crabbe followed and, howling, Goyle pulled the rat off his finger and threw it at the window, before running out the door after them.

Moments later, Hermione Granger barged in.

"What have you been doing?" She shrieked, looking at the mess in the compartment.

Ron was examining his rat, which Su was eyeing warily. Harry touched her arm, concerned. She bit her lip and shrugged.

"I don't like rats," she said.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"Can we help you with something?" Ron snapped, cradling his rat.

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on. I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," Ron scowled. "Would you mind leaving while we change?" Hermione sniffed and turned around, Ron glaring at her as she went.

"I'll step out as well," Su squeezed past the boys and into the corridor.

Harry and Ron looked at Neville, standing awkwardly in the corner.

"Er, hi," he waved at Harry. "I'm Neville Longbottom."

"Harry Potter." He pulled his uniform out of his trunk and started getting changed.

"It's nice to meet you," Neville shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot.

They were silent while Harry and Ron got dressed, and Harry waved Su back into the compartment just as an announcement was made that they would arrive in five minutes, and to leave their luggage on the train.

"Ron, Neville, this is Su. Su – Ron, Neville."

"Hello," Su waved at Ron.

"Hi," he grunted. Harry wondered if he was still sour over his pet's near-death.

Soon the train lurched to a stop, and all the students poured out of the train and onto a tiny, dark platform. He saw a lamp bobbing in the distance, and smiled when he heard that familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All righ' there, Harry?"

Hagrid beamed at him over the sea of faces.

"All righ' – any more firs' years? No. Right, follow me! Mind yer step now!"

Stumbling in the dark, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. Nobody spoke much; too busy trying to keep their balance.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in just a minute," Hagrid called over his shoulder. "Jus' around this bend here."

Everyone gasped.

The narrow path had opened onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its sparkling windows blending with the starry sky, was a vast castle made up of assorted turrets and towers.

"No more 'n four to a boat," Hagrid commanded.

Su pulled Harry and Neville into a boat, and a dark-skinned boy that Harry didn't recognise stepped in after them.

"Found your big world yet?" He sniggered. Harry had no idea what he was talking about, but Su giggled.

"I didn't mean to make a scene," she said. "She was just so infuriating."

"Daphne won a bet with Sally-Anne," he said.

"What?" Su squealed.

The other boy grinned, his smile white against his skin, seeming to float in the night like the Cheshire Cat's grin.

"Sally-Anne bet you'd be Pansy's nemesis by the end of the week. Daphne bet by the end of the day. Daphne won."

"What did I do?" Su gasped.

"Besides humiliate her?" the other boy asked. "You insulted Malfoy – Pansy's got a thing for him."

"Huh."

"Um… who's this?" Harry asked, tired of being out of the loop. He hardly noticed the little fleet of boats pulling into the lake at Hagrid's order, floating towards the castle over head, towering over them as they approached the cliffs.

"Oh, right," Su blushed, but no one could see it in the dark.

"Harry, this is Blaise Zabini. Blaise, Harry and Neville."

"Hi," Neville waved. Blaise nodded in his direction.

"Harry Potter?" Blaise asked. Harry nodded. "It's nice to meet you."

He held out his hand. Harry shook it.

"Heads down!" Hagrid shouted, as the first boats reached the cliff. They all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached an underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

They climbed up a passageway in the rock, following Hagrid's lamp, and finally emerged in the shadow of the castle, beneath a flight of stone steps, which they climbed, finding themselves crowded around the enormous front door – easily several times as tall as the enormous Hagrid.

The man in question raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

* * *

**A/N:** _Next up is the sorting! Our first look at Quirrell, and Snape, and Dumbledore etc.  
_

_Read on! And Review, if you have time._


	5. Welcome to Hogwarts

**Author's Note:** _Aha! At last - the Sorting. The chapter you've all been waiting for! Onwards, brave readers, and discover where our young friends are destined to live and learn for the next seven years of their lives! Oh... isn't the suspense just killing you?__  
_

_Personally, I'm so excited to see what happens next! Oh - yes - by the way, I don't own this universe, though I'd have thought that was obvious. _

* * *

**~ Welcome to Hogwarts ~ **

The door swung open, revealing a tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes. She looked, to Harry, like the sort of teacher one would not want to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

The door opened wider to admit the new students. The entrance hall was so big that you could have fit a whole house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

Su eyed the staircase warily. She was out of shape, having not continued her gymnastics club since – you know – _dying. _Looking at the tall flights of stairs, she imagined that she'd be getting very fit, running around Hogwarts, up and down stairs and around towers and through entrance halls the size of football fields.

Every day would be like running a marathon to get to the next class.

She wondered if she could get a map of shortcuts.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall began, capturing everyone's attention. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend your free time in your house common room."

"What about the library?" Su whispered. Harry and Blaise snickered – Neville hadn't heard her comment, and didn't know what was so funny.

"Ravenclaw," Blaise whispered.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has it's own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

She paused to eye Malfoy and his goons, plotting in the corner. They stopped.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you wait."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was crooked, and on Ron Weasley's smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.

Su flashed him a smile, and raked her fingers through her own hair quickly. Blaise was, somehow, pristine, and merely looked bored.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," Said McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Harry swallowed.

"How, exactly, do they sort us into houses?"

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Oh no. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn't know anything yet – what on earth would they make him do? He wasn't prepared for this. He looked around anxiously and saw that almost everyone else looked terrified – though Su and Blaise were notable exceptions. No one was talking much, except for Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need.

Harry tried hard not to listen to her – it was very distracting.

He'd never been more nervous in his life. He kept his eyes on the door – any second now Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom.

So intent was he on watching the door, that when some of the girls in the back first screamed, he just about jumped out of his skin.

He gasped. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the wall. Pearly white and somewhat transparent, they glided across the room, gossiping. Kid you not. Gossiping. About someone named Peeves and second chances. One ghost mentioned how much he'd like for them to join Hufflepuff. Huh.

"Move along now," Professor McGonagall reappeared. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin. Everyone line up now, and follow me."

Harry stumbled into the line behind Neville, and Su followed behind. His legs felt like lead, and he was feeling a little woozy. He was terrified – but, of course, he would have to continue, if was to become a proper wizard.

"You'll be fine, Harry," Su whispered. "I promise."

Well. He relaxed. If she said so…

The first years marched into the Great Hall. It was spectacular. There were thousands of candles floating in mid air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. Each table was a block of black trimmed with green, or red, or blue, or yellow.

Su giggled, feeling a little light-headed. Her old school houses in primary school were also green, red, blue, and yellow. But students had been put into those at random, not based on personality, and had been affiliated with some theme of nature. Green – Arbour – was plants and trees; Red – Terra – was Earth; Blue – Hydro – was water, and Yellow – Solar – was the sun. She'd been in Arbour.

She giggled again – this was so surreal.

Harry was gaping at the plates and goblets, which were made of gold – was it real gold? Wizards were certainly rather showy, weren't they?

At the end of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

Harry swallowed nervously, and Su's stomach churned. She didn't like being started at by so many people. They looked up, to avoid anyone's eyes, and gasped at the sight of the ceiling – or lack of it. All they could see was a black expanse of night, dotted with stars. It was beautiful.

Hermione could be heard whispering down the line; "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read all about it in _Hogwarts: A History_."

Harry was jolted out of his reverie when Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she placed a raggedy, patched and frayed wizards hat. It looked ancient.

Harry wondered if they'd have to pull a rabbit out of it – that seemed the sort of thing that wizards did… wasn't it? He noticed that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, so he stared at it too. What was it going to do?

Su was startled when the hat started singing – had it done that in the books? She couldn't remember. Surely not… she racked her brain but couldn't recall. Strange.

_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
but don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
a smarter hat than me. _

_You can keep your bowlers black,  
your top hats sleek and tall,  
for I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
and I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head  
the Sorting Hat can't see,  
so try me on and I will tell you  
where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,  
where dwell the brave at heart,  
their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
set Gryffindors apart. _

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
where they are just and loyal,  
those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
and unafraid of toil._

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
where those of wit and learning  
will always find their kind._

_Or, perhaps, in Slytherin  
you'll make your real friends.  
Those cunning folk use any means  
to achieve their ends. _

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands, though I have none,  
for I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still. Su was still rather bemused by the singing hat, and wondered vaguely if it spent all year thinking of a song, or if this was a rare happenstance. She still couldn't remember it ever singing in the books.

In all fairness, she decided, she hadn't read the first one in some time.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron exclaimed, somewhere beyond Blaise Zabini. "I'll kill Fred – he and George were going on about wrestling a troll!"

Harry smiled weakly when Su nudged his ribs and grinned at him. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do magic in front of the whole school. Still, he wished they could have tried it on without everyone watching.

Harry felt rather nervous, actually – he didn't think he'd fit into any of the houses. He wasn't feeling brave, or quick-witted or any of that at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy – that would be the one for him.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, a long roll of parchment in hand.

Su wondered if there was any particular reason that wizards couldn't just use paper.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

McGonagall consulted the parchment.

"Abbot, Hannah!" A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of the line and put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment later;

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Susan Bones followed Hannah to the Hufflepuff table. Terry Boot became a Ravenclaw… Lavender Brown was the first Gryffindor… Su felt uneasy when Millicent Bulstrode glared at her whilst marching to the Slytherin table.

Maybe making enemies on the first day of school had not been such a good idea…

Watching Hermione get sorted into Gryffindor, with Ron groaning at the prospect of sharing a house with her – although really, it wasn't for certain that he'd be in Gryffindor… well it was, but he didn't know that – Su felt rather anxious, actually.

She was almost certain that she'd be in Ravenclaw – but she doubted that Harry would be. He'd probably be in Gryffindor, and then become best friends with Ron and Hermione. And what then? What about her? Would he just forget about her? She didn't know anyone in Ravenclaw, and Pansy Parkinson was already her nemesis…

She felt as though she might faint.

"Li, Su!"

_Oh god._

Harry gave her thumbs up, looking as ill as she felt, and Neville smiled at her, though he was shaking like a leaf. Blaise grinned and mouthed, "_Ravenclaw." _

Blaise seemed nice. She hoped that he'd be in her house too – hoped that they could be friends if Harry forgot all about her once he was in Gryffindor.

Her knees shook as she walked towards the stool. When McGonagall dropped the hat on her head, it fell right down to her chin – why was she so small? Nervously, she pushed the hat up enough that she could breath… she kept her eyes covered though, not wanting to see the rest of the school staring so.

"Well," said the Sorting Hat. Su nearly fell off the stool in her surprise. "This is certainly interesting. You're not from around here, are you?"

Su wondered if the hat would protest against her throwing up in it in front of the whole school. She wanted so desperately at that moment to just go home – back to her ordinary, magic-less world, back with her family, and away from all this fear.

"Fascinating," the Hat continued. "You're brave – much braver than you think. A thirst to prove yourself – a desire to be the best… you're a very competitive young lady. And clever – very, very clever. Miss Granger was the same… but where to put you?"

_Oh please_, Su thought desperately. _Just hurry it up! I don't want to faint in front of all these people. Just put me somewhere – anywhere – you're the mind-reading Hat!_

"Impatient," sighed the Hat. "Well, your strongest traits seem to point to RAVENCLAW!"

The last part was shouted aloud, and Su took the hat off and shakily made her way to the Ravenclaw table, where Cho had kindly scooted over so that she could sit next to her.

"Well done," Cho smiled, wrapping Su in a quick hug. Su was still shaking so badly that she couldn't even hug back. _Note to self_, she thought. _Avoid attention as much as possible – staring makes you extremely nervous._

She watched Neville Longbottom get sorted, sitting on the stool for nearly two minutes, his face moving through a cycle of pale, red, sickly green, red, and pale again.

When if finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to Morag McDougal, who joined Su at the Ravenclaw table. Su waved to Neville, who smiled back, grateful.

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called, and was sorted into Slytherin almost as soon as the Hat touched his head. He looked ridiculously pleased with himself, even though being sorted was not any sort of accomplishment. Everyone did it.

Su held her breath, waiting for Harry to be sorted, but still smiled at Padma Patil and Sally-Anne Perks as they joined her at the Ravenclaw table… and finally;

"Potter, Harry!"

Su grinned at Harry as he stepped forward, ignoring the whispers that broke out all over the place. He waved at her, looking green, and Cho squealed.

"_You_ know _Harry Potter?_" She asked.

"We sat together on the train." It was not the full story, but it seemed to satisfy Cho.

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him, and Neville and Su's reassuring smiles.

"Hmmm…" said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult." Harry wondered idly if the Hat was a friend of Ollivander's. They had the same mysterious and cryptic way of speaking, and very similar soft-but-attention-capturing voices.

"Plenty of courage, I see," the hat was saying. "Not a bad mind either. There's talent, yes, like your parents before you. And yes – a thirst to prove yourself! Now that's interesting…"

Harry wondered which house he'd like to go into, but couldn't be sure. He knew which house he didn't want to be in though – Slytherin. Draco Malfoy was unpleasant, and together, he and his goons reminded him far too greatly of Dudley. Not to mention that his parents' murderer had emerged from Hogwarts dressed in green…

"Not Slytherin, eh?" The hat mused. Harry wondered if it was smirking. Could hats smirk? "Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It's all here, in your head – and Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness. No? Well, you're certainly driven, but it's not quite the right motivation for Ravenclaw…" Harry slumped – he wouldn't be in the same house as Su then.

"Hufflepuff… hmmm… so many possibilities, Mr Potter."

_Anywhere_, Harry thought. _Put me anywhere, just not Slytherin._

"Well, if you're sure," the hat murmured. "Better be… GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry took off the hat and walked over to join Neville at the Gryffindor table, smiling when the twins grinned at him and offered high-fives. He hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet – he did, however, notice Su's pale face, and though she was smiling at him, she also looked pained.

Harry waved at her – they would be friends, he thought. Just because they were in different houses didn't mean that they couldn't be friends. He glanced over at Blaise Zabini, still waiting in line, likely to be last. Harry wondered if Zabini would be in Ravenclaw with Su – he hoped so. Su needed friends, although he supposed that she could befriend the others already sorted into her house.

"I'm so pleased to meet you," said Percy the Prefect, shaking his hand vigorously. The twins were waving their hands and chanting; "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

"Hello, Harry," Neville murmured quietly. "I'm sorry you couldn't be with Su. You two seem like such good friends." Harry noticed how sad Neville looked while saying this. He wondered if Neville had any friends that he'd hoped to join.

"Well, you and I can be good friends, too," Harry suggested.

Neville beamed at him, and Harry grinned. Another new friend! Neville seemed like a really nice bloke, soft-spoken as he was. Neville liked Su too, so they'd all get along well.

He glanced over at the High Table as the other students continued to be sorted. At the end nearest to him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. And in the centre of the High Table, seated in a large gold throne, sat Albus Dumbledore – whom Harry recognised from the Chocolate Frog card.

Dumbledore surreptitiously winked at Harry, who felt rather uneasy at the special attention he was getting for being famous. He was glad when Dumbledore looked away.

Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too – that nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was wearing, now, a very peculiar and large purple turban.

_Why purple?_ Harry wondered. _Why a turban?_

There were now only four people left to be sorted. Dean Thomas, a black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. Lisa Turpin became a Ravenclaw with Su, and then it was Ron Weasley's turn.

At this point, the youngest Weasley was a pale green colour that clashed horribly with his hair. Harry wondered if he'd be a Gryffindor – he sort of hoped not, as horrible as it was, because Ron had not made the best impression on him in the train. Still, he applauded with everyone else when Weasley was sorted into Gryffindor with him.

Blaise Zabini, the last first year to be sorted, waved to Su and winked at Harry as he dropped onto the stool, the Sorting Hat dropping over his eyes.

_Be a Ravenclaw_, Harry thought. _Be friends with Su_. _Be with her because I'm not._

His thoughts were not answered though, and Zabini became a Slytherin. Harry hoped that it was a sign that not all Slytherins were evil. Zabini seemed like a nice bloke.

Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Harry looked down at his empty gold plate and realised just how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten anything since those pumpkin pasties on the train.

Albus Dumbledore stood up and beamed at his students. Harry hoped he wasn't about to make a speech – he was really, really hungry.

"Welcome!" shouted Dumbledore. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words."

_Oh, no_, thought Harry.

"And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not, but he found that he wasn't fabulously impressed with Dumbledore – the supposedly greatest wizard of modern times. He was a bit barmy, actually.

"Is he… a bit mad?" he asked Percy, hoping that it was just a joke.

"Mad?" Percy repeated. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But… yes. He is a bit mad, I suppose. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He'd never seen so many delicious things on one table; roast beef, and roast chicken; pork ribs and lamb chops; sausages, bacon, and steak; boiled potatoes, mashed potatoes, roast potatoes, fries; peas, carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, and – for some odd reason – peppermint humbugs.

Dudley had always eaten all the good food in the Dursley household, even if it made him sick, just so that Harry wouldn't be able to. Now, however, there was no Dudley in sight, and Harry helped himself to a little bit of everything. Except for the peppermints.

"That does look good," sighed a ghost, sitting nearby, watching Harry eat his steak.

"Can't you–" Harry began to ask, and then realised – _of course_ ghosts couldn't eat. They weren't solid, and so the food would just fall through them.

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," the ghost sighed. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" Exclaimed Ron. "My brothers told be about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

The ghost looked miffed. "I would prefer it you were to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy–"

"Nearly Headless?" Interrupted Seamus Finnegan. "How can you be _nearly_ headless?"

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington was beginning to look extremely put off.

"Like this," he snapped, irritably. He seized his ear and pulled, and his whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it were on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Harry felt a bit ill, after looking at the inside of Sir Nicholas's neck.

He pushed his plate away.

"So!" Sir Nicholas went on, pleased with Seamus and Ron's stunned and slightly queasy faces. "New Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable – he's the Slytherin ghost. Been here as long as the castle, I'd wager."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw the ghost in bloodstained robes sitting next to Malfoy who – to Harry's delight – looked decidedly uncomfortable with the seating arrangements, and was trying to scoot away from the ghost.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus, whom Harry was beginning to believe had no sense of tact, or improper questions.

"I've never asked," Sir Nicholas admitted, and Harry got the sense that Sir Nicholas had a great deal of tact, and very good sense of improper questions.

Soon, the steaks and potatoes and carrots and peas disappeared from the table. A moment later the desserts appeared. Ice cream in every flavour, apple pies, treacle tarts, strawberries, rice pudding…

Across the way, Harry could see Su grimace, and then help herself to a small portion of fruit. He wondered if she was not a fan of sweets. He himself grabbed two slices of pie – cherry, and apple – and three small treacle tarts.

As he did so, the conversation turned to families.

"I'm half and half," Seamus was saying. "Me dad's a muggle. Mum's a witch. Didn't tell him until after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out."

The others laughed, except for Dean Thomas, whose mother had, at first, reacted poorly to the revelation that he was a wizard. He was glad that she finally accepted it.

"What about you, Neville?" Ron nudged the round-faced boy with his fork.

"Well," Neville began uneasily. "My gran brought me up, and she's a witch. But the family thought I was a squib for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me. He pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier, once. I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Aunt Enid offered him a meringue and he let go."

Harry was aghast. Neville's family sounded almost as bad as his!

"But I bounced," Neville was saying. "All the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

"That's awful, Neville," Harry murmured. "I'm glad you're here though – otherwise, we'd never have been friends, would we?"

Neville smiled at him.

All around him, other conversations were going on. Hermione and Percy Weasley were discussing lessons – the twins and Lee Jordan were trying, for some reason, to figure out how to charm a tarantula bright pink – and Seamus and Ron were now debating over which Quidditch team was most likely to win that season.

Harry glanced up at the High table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet; Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly – the hooked-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban, straight into Harry's eyes… and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Ouch!" Harry hissed, looking away and clapping a hand to his head.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the distinct sense that the teacher who'd looked at Harry – the hooked-nosed man – disliked Harry. It was a familiar feeling – especially from teachers.

The Dursleys had told the whole neighbourhood that Harry was a hooligan and a troublemaker, and so all the teachers had looked at Harry like that, especially when he tried to tell them that, actually, it was Dudley who had broken the teacher's desk lamp, or spilled all the paint in the art room.

"Who's that teacher, talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.

"Oh, " Percy looked up at the head table. "That's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but everyone knows that he's after the Defence Against the Dark Arts position. Spitting mad last year when Quirrell announced he'd switched from Muggle Studies to Defence. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry watched Snape for a little while, but Snape didn't look at him again. Neither did he feel that sharp, burning pain in his scar… in his scar – not his head, just his scar. Odd.

Eventually the desserts also disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered," Dumbledore began. "I have a few notices to give you. First years should not that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils – a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins, who smirked and winked at Harry.

"I have also been reminded by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for his or her house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

Finally, I must warn you that this year the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry almost laughed, until he noticed how seriously everyone else was taking this.

"He can't be serious, can he?" He asked Percy.

"Must be," the prefect replied. "It's odd, because usually he gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere. The forest's full of dangerous creatures, everyone knows that – and two years ago there was a temporary dragon reserve, because some of the N.E.W.T. students in Care of Magical Creatures were interested. My brother Charlie was one of them – he works with dragons in Romania, now."

"And now," Dumbledore declared, "before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"

Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore flicked his wand, and the lyrics materialised in mid air. He commanded that everyone pick their favourite tune and set off. What followed was a painful cacophony that Harry and Neville ducked down and covered their ears to avoid.

Everyone finished the song at different times, until only the Weasley twins were still singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and, when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.

Harry imagined that everyone else was clapping because they were glad it was over.

Su, meanwhile, was puzzling over the existence of the school song. She honestly didn't remember this much singing going on in the books, and wondered if it was a detail that Rowling had glossed over, forgotten, or simply not deemed important.

Or – and this thought terrified her – what if this universe was developing beyond what Rowling had imagined? What if, by existing, Su had altered the very fabric of the universe? What if next, beyond songs and singing hats, she accidentally launched a plague, or an influx of dementors?

She felt rather faint at the thought.

Finally, after a few odd words about music being magic, Dumbledore dismissed them all to bed. Su watched Harry and Neville following Percy Weasley out of the hall, and hoped that the class schedules would allow them to continue hanging out and remain friends. She herself followed Padma Patil, who followed a prefect named Penelope Clearwater up a different flight of stairs to Ravenclaw tower.

As they climbed the tower, feeling more tired as the stairs continued on and on and on, Su thought about Percy Weasley, and why he wasn't a Slytherin. He'd always seemed spectacularly ambitious to her… but then she remembered the Weasley's prejudice against everything green and silver.

She imagined, as she climbed, a little Percy Weasley, as green-faced as his brother Ron, listening to the Sorting Hat tell him how well he'd do in Slytherin, but begging – _please, please, PLEASE_ – to be put into Gryffindor.

This house rivalry thing was really very sad, she thought.

She was surprised when they arrived at the Ravenclaw common room and Penelope Clearwater told them that Ravenclaw did not have a password for their dorms but, rather, a riddle. Anyone who could answer the riddle and enter would be an honorary Ravenclaw, because this house rivalry business was silly, if it excluded others who wanted to learn even if they wore a different colour.

Su worried a little, at the riddle thing. She wasn't a very good lateral thinker, and hoped that the bronze knocker would give her math questions instead, though she doubted it. As far as she could tell, wizards weren't very interested in basic subjects like mathematics or English. She was glad that Aunt Beatrice had agreed to allow her to continue in both subjects by mail correspondence, in case she ever wanted a muggle job.

Su hoped that maybe, by the time she graduated, she'd be able to work with computers. She'd always been fascinated by the technology…

She followed Padma Patil into the dormitory, and found that her trunk had already been set at a bed next to a window, with Padma on the other side. Both girls smiled at each other, but were too tired for conversation, and quickly got changed and then went straight to bed. Su clutched her pillow, still worrying about breaking the universe, but she eventually managed to get to sleep.

* * *

That night, Harry Potter had a very strange dream.

He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him that he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny.

Harry didn't think that he _could_ transfer. And besides – he didn't want to be a Slytherin, and so he told that to the turban.

It got heavier and heavier, and he tried to pull it off, but it tightened painfully. Malfoy was there, laughing at him, and then Malfoy turned into Snape, whose laugh was high and cold, like the laugh in his other nightmares. There was a burst of green light – and Su was screaming, trying to save him, but she couldn't.

Harry woke up, sweating and shaking. The room was dark. There was no green light. And obviously Su wasn't there – she was in the Ravenclaw dorms, wherever they were.

He rolled over and fell asleep again.

The next day, he couldn't remember the dream at all.

* * *

**A/N:** _So... I stuck with canon housing, but changed some of the relationships. With Su in Ravenclaw, and a possible friendship with Blaise, Harry's horizons will stretch beyond just Gryffindor, which means that - probably - his character will change a bit too. _

_Also, inter-house relationships will doubtless improve, though Gryffindor-Slytherin getting along might be awhile in coming. _

_Snape has had a terrible first impression of Harry - maybe he heard Harry's whispering of 'not Slytherin, not Slytherin' and was angry with Potter's bias against his house? There's a theory for you. _

_Next chapter - classes! Harry's first few classes we all remember - Snape's sneering and Flitwick's excitement and McGonagall the cat... but what about Su? Do the teachers behave differently with other houses around? Let's find out!_


	6. The Potions Master

**Author's Note:** _Now, on to the slightly less interesting stuff - CLASSES! Let's take a look at how Snape acts around Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, shall we?_

* * *

**~ The Potions Master ~**

Harry squirmed, Neville looked pale. He really wished that people would stop staring.

And whispering. The whispering was really getting to him.

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the chubby kid, with the toad."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

It was awful. People had been whispering since the moment he left his dormitory, Neville in tow, and Ron Weasley tagging along. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at him, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. Harry wished they wouldn't, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes.

There were hundreds of stairways in Hogwarts; wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up; and most of them moved, even if you were standing on them.

There were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place. There were doors that weren't really doors, only walls pretending to be doors – and then there were doors that pretended to be walls.

All the classrooms moved around a lot, and the portraits wandered around to visit each other, and all in all, Harry found himself wishing for a nice, muggle castle, that stayed put and didn't try to get him lost.

Then there was Peeves… Harry really wished that the ghosts would just throw him out, or for the Bloody Baron to rein him in. Peeves was a menace.

On top of Peeves, and Hogwarts' inconstancy, was Argus Filch and his nightmare cat, Mrs Norris. Harry would swear, up and down, that the cat was possessed by a demon… or maybe the soul of Voldemort. Either way, she was pure evil.

Beyond the castle's changing corridors, and Peeves the Poltergeist, and Filch and his evil cat… were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, Harry found out, than just waving your wand and saying some funny words.

Su was helping as much as she could, joining Harry and Neville, sometimes with Ron or Blaise (though those two never remained if the other was already present – something about principals and Malfoy… Harry had no idea what that was about), but even Su struggled at times. None of them had a complete grasp on Astronomy, but Neville was a lifesaver in Herbology, having his own greenhouse back home.

History of Magic was easily the most boring class, but Blaise Zabini would often mention interesting pieces of trivia to keep them interested, and the textbook, at least, was slightly less dull then Professor Binns.

Harry liked Charms and Transfiguration, because those were the classes that Gryffindor had with Ravenclaw, and he always sat next to Su – neither of them noticing the envious looks that she received, particularly from Ron Weasley (who had hoped to be Harry Potter's best friend, but had been overshadowed by Neville Longbottom and that random Ravenclaw. Still, he got along well with Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, and hoped in future years to try out for Quidditch and become just as notable as his brothers had been).

Professor Flitwick, who taught Charms, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class, he took roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight, causing Harry and Su to snicker – thought they liked the Ravenclaw head of house.

Charms, it turned out, was Su's second-best subject, after Potions.

Harry's best subject was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. Harry had been right to think that she was a teacher one wouldn't wish to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a stern lecture the moment the sat down in her first class, about the complexity and danger of her subject.

Transfiguring a desk into a pig and back had impressed everyone, but they were rather disappointed to learn that they were starting small, though Su was quite reasonable about it – "Baby steps, Harry. We wouldn't want to mess up. Imagine if our pig was inside out! Blood everywhere! Gross."

Harry and Neville had thought that was hilarious, although they stopped laughing when McGonagall looked sharply at their little corner.

By the end of the lesson only Harry and Hermione had made any differences to their matches – which they were trying to turn into needles. Harry had managed after Su had explained some of the complicated notes that McGonagall had given them, turning his match silver, though it still lit up when struck against the table. Hermione's had become both silver and pointy, though it also still caught fire when struck.

Both had received two points apiece from McGonagall, accompanied by a rare smile.

Harry had to comfort Su on their way out.

"It's okay, Su," he told her. "Maybe my wand's just good for transfiguration, like my dad's. Yours is good for Charms work, isn't it?"

"I suppose," she sighed. "I just wish I were better at magic."

"Practice," Neville suggested gently. "That's what my Gran always says."

Su nodded morosely.

Defence Against the Dark Arts, with the Slytherins and Professor Quirrell, turned out to be rather disappointing. The classroom smelled strongly of garlic, supposedly to ward off vampires – his turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome pack of inferi.

Harry wasn't sure that he believed that, because when Seamus eagerly asked for details about the battle and the prince, Quirrell changed the subject. For another, they had noticed a funny smell around the turban – Fred and George insisted that it too was stuffed full of garlic.

Su and Neville agreed that it was suspicious, especially when Su looked up vampires and learned that a fear of garlic was a myth, though due to a vampire's strong sense of smell it _was_ an irritant – but nothing more.

Su also mentioned she didn't like that their Defence teacher was so fearful – it didn't bode well for their education. The stuttering, too, was a nuisance.

"Well," she said eventually. "I've got Double Potions now, with the Hufflepuffs. Hey – do you ever wonder how the teachers manage so many classes with so many students? I mean, only one teacher per subject… and all the paperwork… how do they do it? I'm pretty sure that there's a third-year Transfiguration class at the same time as ours on Wednesday… maybe the teachers have Time-Turners?"

"What're Time-Turners?" Neville asked, but Su had already run off down to the dungeons, while Harry and Neville resigned themselves to Double Defence.

Su dashed down to the Potions classroom, feeling nervous. The dungeons were damp and cold and gloomy… she shivered. She knew that her mum had read all the books, though Su had only read the first four, and insisted that Snape was one of the best, bravest characters in the series – and definitely a good guy.

Still, he had seemed rather creepy, sneering at everyone from the Head Table, and Su remembered how nasty he had been to Harry in the books, even if he had saved Harry's life during that whole broom-incident in first year…

Speaking of, Su vowed to learn some long-range confounding jinxes, in case Harry made the house team again. She didn't want to take any chances with Quirrell/Voldemort, though she hadn't had any classes with him yet.

She had Double Defence with the Hufflepuffs on Friday morning though…

She rushed into the Potions classroom, and was relieved to find that Padma Patil had a spare seat next to her. While not close, Su and Padma got along rather well, and traded notes on their best classes – Su's was Charms, and Padma's was Transfiguration.

She sat down just as Snape burst into the room, his dark robes billowing behind him theatrically. Su wondered if he did that on purpose – it certainly served to make him more impressive and intimidating.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. Su was delighted that his voice was as low and gruff as Alan Rickman's – he was very easy to listen to – much better than stuttering Quirrell. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…" Su wondered if he rehearsed this speech. Maybe he repeated it every year to all the first year classes. "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death… if you aren't as big a bunch of fools as those I usually have to teach."

He sneered at the Hufflepuffs, apparently expecting the Ravenclaws at least to be able to follow instructions and enjoy learning. Su was thrilled – here, something that didn't require her to use her apparently lacking magical ability. Here, finally, was something that she could do _right!_ Take that, Hermione Granger.

Hermione had been, in the books, Su's favourite character, because she could relate to the bookish, somewhat friendless girl – reminded of herself. She had not, however, counted on both of their naturally competitive natures, and they both strived to be their best in their respective classes. While Hermione often got a spell quicker, when Su finally got it her spells were of slightly better quality, and at that stage both their essays were about on par with each other.

It infuriated both of them, though Su despaired of victory, remembering in every book that Hermione had been lauded as the greatest witch of their age. Still, she was determined to give Granger a run for her money, especially in Potions.

Snape wasted no time after calling out the roll, and taking points odf Ernie McMillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley for arriving late, thought they had gotten lost in the labyrinth called Hogwarts. He put them all into pairs and set them to mix a simple potion to cure boils – Su wondered if it was an antidote to another potion, or to a jinx.

Either way, she expected that the functional potions would be taken up to the Hospital Wing – which was rather clever. Two birds with one stone and all.

Snape swept around the room, watching them all weigh nettles and crush snake fangs. He criticized almost everyone on their technique – though in all fairness, Potions was a dangerous class when instructions weren't followed properly, and few of the students had been taught the proper way to crush or slice etc.

Su preened when Snape praised her neat slicing of her horned slugs, and the way she had used her granite knife to crush the snake fangs instead of the silver, because the silver would have a mild reaction with the fangs and decrease their potency.

By the end of the class, she and Padma had a perfect potion, earning five points for Ravenclaw. Two other Ravenclaw pairs had created 'passable' potions, earning one point each. The Hufflepuffs had not succeeded so well, but none of them lost points either. Snape finished the lesson by lecturing them on the importance of properly preparing their ingredients – as Su and Padma had done – and the way that quality ingredients produced quality potions.

He demanded essays on the topic due in the next week, between ten and fifteen inches long. Su hoped he would accept paper as well as parchment, because, to be honest, she was hopeless with a quill – the ink blotched up and her notes were all uneven, so she'd begged Nathan to owl her pencil case of muggle pens and pencils to her earlier that week. None of the other teachers had protested so far, though some of the wizard-born children had looked at her strangely.

She'd already given a pen each to Harry and Neville, and one also to half-blood Terry Boot, who'd grown used to them in muggle primary school.

At dinner, Su had boasted to Cho, and later to Harry and Neville, about her achievement in Potions, impressing all of them. She assured Harry that, as long as he used the correct techniques, like she'd shown him in _Potent Potions: First Steps and Preparations_, he'd be fine, though she suggested he review the first few chapters of the official textbook in case Snape dropped a pop quiz on them – he had a reputation for hating Gryffindors and favouring Slytherins.

Harry happily agreed.

The next morning, when the mail arrived, Harry received an invitation to Hagrid's later that afternoon for tea. He happily agreed, and wondered if Su would like to come too, he wanted to properly introduce his best friend to his first contact in the wizarding world.

After breakfast, Harry and Neville made their way down to the dungeons, where Potions had been held – grateful for the shortcut that Su had found and told them about.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and, like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah. Yes," he said softly, his low whisper sounding almost cruelly sharp in Harry's ears. "Harry Potter. Our. New. _Celebrity._" He hissed the last word with no small amount of distaste, and Harry resisted the urge to shrink in his seat. He would not be cowed.

Draco Malfoy and his friends sniggered behind their hands, though Blaise looked over at him apologetically, and shook his head at his housemates' actions.

Snape then repeated the rehearsed speech that Su had told them about, and Harry noticed Hermione Granger on the edge of her seat looking desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. Harry recalled Su's semi-rivalry with the bushy-haired girl, and snickered at the image of her in Charms where, while Hermione had been almost jittery with eager excitement, Su had contrasted herself by sitting up straight, cool and aloof. Harry tried to imagine Su acting like Hermione, but thought it wouldn't do to laugh in Snape's class and earn his ire.

"Potter!" Snape called suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood."

Harry tried to recall, but he didn't think that that had been covered in his textbook. He looked at Neville, who seemed as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand had shot into the air, and she was waving it around like a madwoman.

"I don't know, sir," he admitted.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Clearly," he said, "fame isn't everything. Let's try again, Potter – where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar."

This one Harry knew – it had been in Su's book of potion ingredients and their uses. Hermione's hand was stretched as high as it would go without leaving her seat.

"In the stomach of a goat, sir," he said, noting that Snape's eyebrows rose in surprise, though he seemed no less antagonistic. "It's a stone formed by the digestive system, and it's an antidote for most poisons, sir."

He wondered if that second 'sir' had been too much. He was pleased to note that Hermione seemed a lot more shocked than Snape, and made a mental note to tell Su about it, sure that she'd enjoy the picture.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Thank heavens for Neville and his love of Herbology, thought Harry. Neville had regaled him with stories of several plants just a few nights ago, including this one.

Hermione stood up, hand stretching towards the ceiling.

"They're the same plant, sir," Harry said, feeling rather pleased with himself. Hermione almost fell over when he answered the question, and Harry felt rather offended. What gave her the impression that he was so dumb he couldn't answer a couple of questions? It was insulting, really. "It's also used in a lot of medicinal potions, sir – mostly poisons, but also in some antidotes."

Neville grinned – Harry had remembered!

Snape was silent for a moment, regarding Harry with hard black eyes. Harry had no idea what his professor was thinking, but eventually Snape looked away.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death – used on an ancient princess in times forgotten, giving rise to the muggle fairy tales 'Briar Rose' and 'Snow White'. The true story has been lost to time.

You are correct, about monkshood and wolfsbane – it is also known as aconite.

As for the bezoar, it is a simple and easy cure for most poisons. Competent or paranoid wizards are known to carry at least one on their person at all times."

Harry wondered if Snape was competent or paranoid. Probably the latter, but maybe he was both.

"Well?" Snape glared at the class. "Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. After a brief lecture about the instructions on the board, they got into pairs and set about making the cure for boils.

Harry almost forgot Su's tip about using the granite knife, but Neville reminded him just before he was about to crush the snake fangs.

Snape, meanwhile, stalked around the room, sneering at everybody except for Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. The Gryffindors in particular were victim to his harsh criticism, but even Blaise was scolded for not holding his knife properly, and for his uneven slicing of his horned slugs.

Snape was just praising Malfoy on his perfect stewing of his horned slugs, when Harry saved everyone from disaster. Neville was about to add porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire – but Harry remembered that porcupine quills, in conjunction with daffodil petals and fire, were extremely volatile.

"No!" He shouted, pulling Neville back. He hardly noticed the rest of the classroom, intent on making sure that his friend didn't blow everyone up. "Nev! You have to take the cauldron off the flames first – don't you remember what porcupine quills and daffodil petals do when heated too much? That was close."

"Sorry," mumbled Neville, red-faced and a little panicky. "I forgot."

Harry calmed down a little, moving the cauldron off the fire and stirring it widdershins twice to counteract the upset it received when he moved it so quickly.

"It's alright, Neville," he sighed, smiling weakly at his friend. "We're okay."

"Two points from Gryffindor for disturbing the class, Potter," Snape sneered behind him, causing Harry to jump. Snape peered at their potion, which was, in Harry's opinion, actually pretty good. Snape looked pained as he declared, "One point to Gryffindor for your quick thinking. Not many first years remember _why_ the quills should be added when the cauldron is removed from the flames."

He moved on before Harry could say anything. The rest of the class was fairly quiet, though Harry noticed Snape watching him intently. He had no idea what the Potions master thought of him, but all the staring made him uneasy.

At least, he noticed, there was no pain in his scar this time.

* * *

"Nice save, Harry," Su beamed at him when he told her about it later. "Snape is rather unpleasant, though, isn't he? I wonder if he gets enough sleep… I'll have to ask Aunt Beatrice about that Time-Turner thing. It would explain how McGonagall got another one so easily…" she trailed off, thinking about the books and how little they really explained.

She'd been struggling much more in her classes that past week than she'd thought she would. The theory was all pretty sound, but putting it into practice was far more difficult, not to mention trying to memorise all the names and properties of the plants in Herbology, the ingredients and recipes for Potions, and all the wand movements, incantations, histories and theories for _every single spell_ in Charms and Transfiguration.

Su hoped desperately that it would get better – and after all, if Hermione Granger could do it, then surely she could also… but her fears started to creep up again. What if Hermione was brilliant because the plot demanded it? What if she was actually unreasonably successful for an eleven-year-old of any experience? Su hoped that Rowling had not stooped to such a cheap method of Deus Ex Machina, but honestly the wizarding universe had not really been thoroughly explored, so distracting were Harry's life-endangering adventures… not to mention how dull it would be to read through paragraphs and paragraphs of exposition not related to the plot…

"Su?" Harry asked again, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Pardon?"

"What's a Time-Turner, Su?" Neville asked. "You keep muttering about them, but we don't know what they are. Why would the teachers have them?"

"Oh," Su grimaced. "I'm not sure if I'm allowed to tell you, because they're from the Department of Mysteries but I suppose…" she was about to mention that Hermione had one, but Hermione _didn't_ have one, at least, not yet, and how was she to explain how she knew all of this anyway? "Well," she continued, "I suppose since I know about it, and since no one else can get one, it can't hurt to tell you."

She stopped walking – they were halfway to Hagrid's at this point – and beckoned them closer, glancing around for any eavesdropping students or teachers. She saw, in the distance, a few older students snogging under a tree, but they weren't paying the trio of first years any mind.

"Time-turners are time-travel machines," she told them. "There's a whole bunch of them down in the Department of Mysteries where Aunt Beatrice works. They do exactly what they say they do – turn back time… but only for a few hours at most."

"Time travel?" Harry gaped.

"What does that mean?" Neville asked.

"It means that they can be in two places at once," Su told them. "So the teachers can teach multiple classes, or have enough time in the evenings to grade homework and still get some sleep… that explains why the teachers are so grumpy most of the time. Right?"

"It makes sense," Neville agreed. Harry just nodded.

"Wow," he breathed. "Is there anything that magic _can't_ do?"

"I'm not sure," Su admitted. "I've only just scratched the surface of magic myself. I think it's like science – the more that you learn about it, the more you realise that you don't know. It's impossible to explore everything, because everything is infinite."

"I don't know what that means," Harry said, grinning. "But it sounds brilliant!"

Su blushed.

"Well," she said. "Maybe when we grow up we can become Unspeakables, like Aunt Beatrice, and we'll discover the answers to all the mysteries that magic throws at us."

"Sounds like a plan," Harry grinned, and the three of them beamed at each other.

"So," Su looked around, "does anyone remember why we're out here, again?"

"Oh!" Harry gasped. "We were visiting Hagrid!"

The three of them dashed down to Hagrid's hut near the Forbidden Forest. They were greeted at the door by Hagrid's large and slobbery dog – Fang – and then crowded into the small, one-roomed house. It fit them all fairly easily, considering that the whole place was Hagrid-sized, but Su thought it was rather unreasonable that such a large man should live in such small and shabby quarters.

She wondered if he was getting paid enough.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, gesturing to a wooden bench, which Harry supposed that they were supposed to sit on. Fang at once leapt towards Neville and started licking his ears off.

Su avoided the dog, pulling a face. Harry remembered that she was uncomfortable around animals, which was why she didn't have a pet.

"Hagrid, this is Su Li, and Neville Longbottom," Harry introduced. "My best friends."

Both best friends in question beamed at him. All three of them had come from a rather friendless background, so the presence of the other two was an extraordinary blessing in each of their lives.

They soon learned that the rock cakes Hagrid offered them were rather dangerous to their health, so they left them on the tray while they told Hagrid all about their first lessons of the year, and the adventures they had between classes in just trying to move around the castle without killing themselves or being late.

They were all delighted to hear Hagrid refer to Filch as 'that old git'.

"As fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know she follows me around every time I go up ter the school? Can't get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it. Thinks I'm suspicious," Hagrid scoffed.

Harry, Neville, and Su told Hagrid about Snape's lessons – and Harry expressed his concerns that Snape hated him, though Hagrid assured him that Snape liked only a very few students – most of them in Slytherin.

"But he seemed to really hate me," Harry insisted. Su wondered why – the books had never explained that bit very clearly. Maybe Snape was just grouchy?

"Rubbish!" Hagrid waved a hand, avoiding Harry's eyes. "Why should he? Though Su, well done on yer potion – Snape's a hard man ter please. Tha's very impressive."

Su just about glowed with pride from the praise.

While Neville and Hagrid began to discuss the pests that attacked some of the plants in Professor Sprout's greenhouses, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was an article from the _Daily Prophet_.

* * *

**GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on the 31st of July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had, in fact, been emptied earlier that same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said the Gringotts spokes-goblin in this afternoon's interview.

* * *

Harry remembered Ron Weasley telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.

"Hagrid!" he tugged the man's sleeve to catch his attention. "That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

Hagrid deliberately avoided Harry's eyes, and with very little subtlety offered Harry a rock cake and tried to change the subject to their sorting's – in particular, Harry and Neville's friendship with Su, even though she was a different house.

"Dumbledore's so proud," Hagrid was saying, but Harry wasn't listening as he was rereading the article… the vault had been emptied earlier that day. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call taking out that grubby little package emptying. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

As the three of them trudged back to the castle, pausing only to drop the rock cakes that Hagrid had pressed on them into the black lake, Harry mulled over the questions that his visit with Hagrid had brought up.

What was in that little package? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Harry?

* * *

**A/N:** _Only a short chapter here. Setting up the Philosopher's Stone mystery... answering my questions about why there was only one teacher per subject at Hogwarts (seriously, there are about ten English teachers at my school of five hundred students, who are all ridiculously busy at all times - but at Hogwarts, with supposedly about 1000 students, there's only one teacher per subject? That needed explaining.)_

_Also - I wonder how Snape is going to continue from here? He obviously still dislikes Harry, but respects Harry's knowledge of Potions. I think if there's anything that will get Snape to like someone, it's if they share his passion for Potions. Hmmm... I wonder if Su will become his favourite student (besides Malfoy)?_

_Feel free to give your opinion on the story, and to tell me what _you_ think about the unexplored magical world... just review. It's easy. _


	7. Flying Lessons and Bullies

**Author's Note:** _Okay - the flying lesson! Because Quidditch! Also; Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode are more important to the plot than you might think, so I have to introduce them. They will feature in later years more prominently, I think, but for now: this chapter. _

* * *

**~ Flying Lessons and Bullies ~**

Harry had never believed that he would meet a boy as insufferable as Dudley, but Malfoy was certainly trying to prove him wrong. Fortunately he only saw Malfoy in a handful of classes, and they were kept busy enough by the classwork that he didn't have to put up with the boy's constant smirking and snide remarks as much.

Then he saw the notice about flying lessons on Thursday – the whole year would be there, including Malfoy, who had been bragging for weeks about his flying prowess, complaining about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams, and telling long, boastful tales that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping muggles in helicopters.

When Harry had told Su about this, she had pointed out that Malfoy had come very close to breaking the Statute of Secrecy, and shouldn't he be arrested, or at least fined, for all the obliviations that must have been carried out?

Harry didn't know what that meant, but it certainly made him feel better.

Malfoy wasn't the only one; Seamus Finnegan, Ron Weasley, and even some of Su's reserved housemates had their own stories of daring adventure to tell.

Su didn't believe any of it, which meant that neither did Harry or Neville. Su could generally be counted on to know what she was talking about – it came, Harry supposed – of trying to rival Hermione Granger, who was still besting almost all the Ravenclaws in just about every subject, much to Su's frustration.

Su was still better in Potions though – which she liked to remind Harry of constantly.

It was almost getting annoying.

Neville, however, had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Harry felt that she'd had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground – and those were just the ones that Harry wasn't able to prevent. Both had become quite familiar with the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey.

Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was, because it was something that she couldn't learn how to do out of a book. Not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all silly with flying tips she'd read about. Neville was hanging onto her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everyone else was very happy that Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

Harry hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note; something that Malfoy had been quick to notice and tease him about, of course. Harry wondered what the hell Malfoy's problem was – was it too much to ask for the boy to just leave him alone?

Malfoy himself was bombarded every other week with sweets and little toys and fascinating knickknacks sent by his mother from home, each of which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table and made sure to show off to Harry later.

Su wasn't impressed, though Neville was, which left Harry feeling rather bemused and very put off. He wished that Malfoy would find someone else to pick on – although he did notice a rivalry between the blonde and Ron Weasley.

He wondered if there was a way to direct Malfoy's attention to Ron. It wasn't very kind, but Harry was getting really sick of Malfoy. So was Neville, actually, because as Harry's friend, and also the laughingstock of most first years due to how accident prone he was, Neville was a prime target for bullies like Malfoy.

This morning's mail added more fuel to the Neville-is-a-target fire.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly to reveal a glass ball the size of a large marble, full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" He explained. "Gran knows I forget things. This tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do! Look, you hold it tight like this, and if it turns red… oh…" he trailed off and his face fell. The Remembrall had turned scarlet. "If it turns red, it means that you've forgotten something."

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall right out of his hand.

Harry jumped to his feet, as did a few other Gryffindors, he noticed – including Ron, Fred, George, Lee Jordan, and the Quidditch Captain… Oliver Something-or-Other. He remembered something one of the Ravenclaw boys – Michael Corner – had said;

"Gryffindors are always looking for a fight."

There was no fight, however. Malfoy didn't even have time for a snide remark. Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any other teacher in school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?" She demanded.

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy dropped the glass ball onto the table.

"Just looking," he said, stalking away and trailed by Crabbe and Goyle.

Su took the opportunity to show up at Harry's shoulder.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"Malfoy was about to steal Neville's Remembrall," Harry explained.

"Oh," she looked at Neville. "I don't know how useful that is. Everyone's forgotten something at some point or another. It's not like it tells you what you've forgotten."

"I suppose," Neville agreed glumly. "But it's a gift from my gran – she doesn't buy me anything if she can help it. Even my wand is my dad's old one."

Su frowned. "But the wand chooses the wizard. How can you be sure that your dad's wand is the right wand for you? What if the reason you're having so many magical accidents is that your wand doesn't like you?"

Neville paled.

"Su, calm down," Harry put a hand on his friend's shoulder. She sighed. "How about these flying lessons?" He asked – mostly to change the subject. "I'm looking forward to it, actually. Imagine – flying! Must be exciting!"

"I hope so," Su was a little reserved about flying, Harry had learned. She was excited, but also nervous. "I just know so little about the brooms. I mean, aren't they uncomfortable? I know that there's a cushioning charm, but I don't know if the charm creates a 'seat', so to speak, or if it just makes sitting on a stick easier to bear. What about control? How do you go up, down, speed up, slow down… I asked Cho, because she's the reserve seeker for Ravenclaw – but she said it's mostly instinct…"

Neville now looked a little green, and Harry sighed.

He hoped his two best friends would be able to calm themselves before the actual lesson. Otherwise, there was bound to be drama.

* * *

Su had met and handled her fair share of bullies – which was to be expected when one was a five-year-old as intellectual as Su. In all fairness, declaring the stupidity of playing with dolls to a group of girls playing with dolls was not the brightest thing to do – but Su had never been much of a people-person, and had a knack for antagonising the most ferocious of enemies.

She'd had to change schools after that incident in first grade had ended with her covered in green paint and with eight other little girls viciously chopping off all her hair.

Su's sense of tact had increased – slightly – as she'd grown older, but she still managed to make a few enemies, even when she skipped grades. Thirteen-year-olds were not much more mature than nine-year-olds… and nine-year-olds made easy targets for insecure thirteen-year-olds.

Suffice to say, Su had enough experience with bullies to know that Pansy Parkinson was rather low-level, with her crude and unvaried insults. Millicent Bulstrode was hardly any better, knocking her into the walls and shouldering past her in the halls.

What she had not counted on were the facts that Pansy and Millicent were both Slytherins, and magic. After the first few weeks of taunting and shoving had failed to get a rise out of their Ravenclaw nemesis, they decided to up the ante.

Upping the ante required plotting, so they withdrew from taunting Su for a little while in order to plot grander schemes of torment – Su did not notice, though in hindsight, she should have. As a result of the following incidents, she became much more paranoid, especially in relation to Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode.

In the week leading up to the flying lesson, several things happened.

First, on Monday, Pansy succeeded in slipping a potion into Su's drink that turned her hair blue. This was intended to humiliate Su – but after recovering from her initial shock, Su decided that she quite liked it, and her hair remained blue for the rest of the day. Professor McGonagall had finally gotten sick of the 'outrageous colour' and had transfigured Su's hair back to black.

Su made a mental note to dye her hair blue when she graduated.

On Wednesday, a series of much more serious pranks were played. Su's shoes were hexed to try and throw her down staircases; she was shot by a jelly-legs-jinx on the way to breakfast; a potion was slipped into her apple juice at lunch that caused her to throw up slugs for an hour; and her potions homework was stolen, earning her a detention and a sneer from Snape.

That last was the most upsetting to Su – though the slugs were rather disgusting – because Potions was her favourite class, and Snape's high regard was something that she valued greatly. To lose his respect hurt her deeply.

On Thursday, little did anyone know, Pansy and Millicent had heavily jinxed one of the brooms, planning to have Su humiliated in front of all the first years – after all, the basics of riding a broom were as simple as sitting down. If Su couldn't do that, well, surely she wasn't a _proper_ witch. Pansy and Millicent snickered whenever Su passed them for the rest of the day, which made her very, very uneasy.

* * *

At three-thirty on Thursday afternoon, Su, Harry, and Neville made their way towards the Quidditch Pitch for their first flying lesson. The Slytherins and some scattered Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were already there. Nearby, lying in neat rows on the ground, were the broomsticks.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived, and glared at the stragglers, who hurried to line up next to their brooms. Pansy and Millicent shoved and snickered at Su, but soon she, Harry, and Neville were standing by a broom each.

They glanced down at the school brooms – which Harry had heard Fred and George complain about on several occasions – they were old and faded, and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Hold your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch, "and say 'up'!"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did.

Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, Su's had hopped a little, but fallen back into place. Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid; Neville clearly wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Su got her broom on the second try, and both of them tried to assure Neville that riding a broom was easy, and very safe, so long as he didn't try to show off.

Neville told them that he was in no danger of showing off.

Still, soon enough, his broom had leapt into his hand, though he still looked apprehensive.

Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and Neville snickered when she told Malfoy that he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forwards lightly. On my whistle, remember. Three. Two."

Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground pushed off on two – for a moment he was okay, and the broom just hovered, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground. Then the broom shot up like a cork out of a bottle, and he was getting higher and higher and higher.

"Neville!" Su shouted, wringing her hands. "Neville hold on!"

But the broom was tilting slightly left, and Neville panicked and lost his grip.

WHAM! Harry winced at the sound of bones crunching, and Neville lay facedown in the grass. His broom was still rising higher and higher, and Su could see that it was rotating as it did so – was that normal behaviour for a broom? The wind caught it and it started to drift towards the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," she muttered. "Come on, boy, let's get you up to the hospital wing." She turned to address the class. "None of you move! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear."

As Neville, humiliated and in pain, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, Su sidled closer to Harry.

"It's a good thing he fell off when he did," she murmured. "He could have died if he held on any longer." Harry nodded, his own face pale. Neville had the worst luck.

As soon as Neville and Madam Hooch were out of sight, Malfoy burst into laughter, clutching his stomach and doubling over, apparently finding it all hilarious. Pansy and Millicent were smirking at Su, and appeared to be congratulating themselves.

_What have they done?_ She wondered. _Did they have something to do with this?_

It appeared so – but she had no way to prove it.

"Did you see his face? The great lump!" Malfoy was saying.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" sneered Pansy. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Patil."

"Better than snot-nosed rodents," Padma shot back, defending her sister.

Pansy and the Patil twins began to argue, but Malfoy had become distracted.

"Look!" He darted forward and snatched something form the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. He would not let Malfoy take something that was so precious to his friend – even if it _was_ just a useless bauble.

Malfoy smirked.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find," he sneered, mounting his broom. "How about… the roof?"

"Malfoy!" Harry yelled, but the Slytherin had already taken off, and was cackling at them from twenty feet up. He hadn't been lying about being a good flier – exaggerating, but not lying. He darted around, showing off.

"Come and get it, Potter!" He taunted.

Harry grabbed his broom.

"No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble!"

"Bit late for that," Su snapped, as Harry wrenched his arm from Hermione's grip and kicked up off the ground to join Malfoy in the air. "Harry sticks up for his friends – Malfoy shouldn't get away with messing with Neville."

"But he's breaking the rules!" Hermione wailed, terribly anxious.

_I need to distract her_, Su thought, _but how? What's she interested in? Studying?_

"Hermione," Su grabbed the bushy-haired girl's sleeve, and brought her over to the other group of Ravenclaw girls. "I wanted to ask what books you've been reading for Transfiguration. I know that Lisa and Sally-Anne are really good at it, but you've got a better grip on the theory."

Lisa, who had been eyeing Su warily, grinned at the praise.

"You're brilliant, Li!" She exclaimed. "Hermione, would you like to join our study group? You write the best essays, you know. You really should have been in Ravenclaw."

"Well, uh…" Hermione gaped. She'd never been invited to hang out with other girls her age. Most of them couldn't relate to her bookish ways – Su rolled her eyes and went back to watching Harry and Malfoy argue.

For such a smart witch, Hermione didn't have very much sense. Whether Gryffindor was the best house or not was irrelevant – if she'd wanted to make friends with girls with like interests, she should have let herself be sorted into Ravenclaw where she belonged. Oh well, at least the problem was solved.

Maybe it would increase inter-house unity?

Meanwhile, Harry was both thrilled to be flying, and angry with Malfoy for picking on his friend. He loathed bullies – ten years of living with Dudley Dursley had made him determined never to suffer anyone walking all over him ever again.

But… _flying_. The wind rushed at his face, whistling through his hair and throwing his robes billowing out behind him. This… this was freedom, he thought. In a rush of fierce joy he realised that this was something he could do without being taught – this was easy, like running or laughing or smiling at Su.

He pulled up a little higher, and rushed towards Malfoy – he could hear some screams and gasps from girls, though Su, he noticed as he glanced down, just grinned at him. The boys – all his housemates and some of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws… and Blaise Zabini… whooped and cheered instead.

He turned to face a stunned Malfoy in the air.

"Give it here, Malfoy," he said, his voice low and quiet. "Or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Try it, Potter," Malfoy scoffed, but he was beginning to look anxious.

Harry knew what to do – he leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands so that he wouldn't fall off – and shot towards Malfoy like an arrow, who only barely got out of the way in time.

Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. Some of his classmates were clapping, impressed with his manoeuvrability on the sub-par broomstick.

"No Crabbe or Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry reminded.

Malfoy glanced at the ground, where his friends were staring stupidly up at him. He looked at Harry again, trying to think of a plan.

"Catch it if you can, then, Potter!" he shouted, throwing the Remembrall as high and far as he could, flying in the opposite direction.

Harry didn't hesitate. The ball was a little hard to see, but he could see the flash of sunlight on the glass as it started to fall. Without thinking, he dived after it, flying steeply down, down, down. Wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of his classmates, he stretched out his hand – just a few feet from the ground – and caught the Remembrall in his fist, pulling up just in time to save himself from crashing.

He turned around to see Su grinning at him, throwing him a thumbs-up. Hermione was sulking, but was soon distracted by a question asked by Sally-Anne Perks.

"HARRY POTTER!" He turned around again, this time coming face to face with Professor McGonagall. His heart sank. He was going to be expelled. This was it, the end of his life as a wizard. He wondered if the Dursleys would pick him up from Kings Cross, or if he should just check himself into an orphanage on his own.

"Never, in all my time at Hogwarts…" Professor McGonagall trailed off, almost speechless with shock. "You might have broken your neck! Of all the irresponsible…"

"Please, professor, it wasn't his fault, professor–"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil–"

"But Malfoy–"

"That's enough, Mr Weasley." McGonagall's eyes flashed, and the class fell silent. She turned back to Harry. "Potter, follow me. Now."

Harry caught sight of the Slytherins – particularly Malfoy and his buddies – looking painfully smug, though Blaise did shrug at him, standing apart from his housemates. He sighed as he followed the professor to the castle. His life was over.

Professor McGonagall didn't say a thing as she swept up into the castle and then through its maze of corridors, staircases, and trick doorways. Harry's stomach was tying itself in knots. He'd lasted less than a month – that must be a record for expulsions.

He thought of Hagrid, who had also been expelled, but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid's assistant? He grimaced at the thought of Malfoy becoming an accomplished wizard, and Harry dressed in rags and sleeping on the floor of Hagrid's little hut, trying to live off rock cakes.

Professor McGonagall finally stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside. "Excuse me, Professor Flitwick," she said. "Could I borrow Wood, for a moment?"

Wood?

Harry watched, completely bewildered, as the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain stepped out of the classroom, looking as confused as Harry felt. Harry was trying to remember what he knew about the boy – he was a fifth year, on the Quidditch team with Fred and George… and his name was Oliver Wood.

McGonagall gestured for them to follow her, and they did so, looking at each other and at her back, completely baffled. Soon, they were in her office.

"Potter," she said. "This is Oliver Wood. Wood – I've found you a Seeker!"

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

"Are you serious, professor?"

"Absolutely," McGonagall grinned. Harry had never seen her grin. He was beginning to feel a little dizzy. Was he still expelled? "The boy's a natural," McGonagall was saying. "I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broom, Potter?"

Harry nodded silently. Seeker… that was a position on the Quidditch team, wasn't it? But first years never made the team – there were rules about that! Still, if he was to be on the team, then he wasn't being expelled, was he?

"He caught that thing in his hand," McGonagall gestured towards the Remembrall, "after a fifty-foot dive. Not a scratch on him. Charlie Weasley would be proud."

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true.

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" He asked, giddy with excitement.

Harry shook his head, but Wood wasn't listening.

"He's just the build for a Seeker, too," Wood beamed at Harry. "Light. Speedy. We'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor. One of the latest from Nimbus or Cleansweep or something sleek like that."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule," McGonagall seemed as excited as Wood. Harry guessed she must be a fan of Quidditch. "He'll make the team, Wood – heaven knows we need it. Flattened in that match with Slytherin last year… I couldn't look Snape in face for weeks…"

Yep. Definitely a Quidditch fan. An avid one too – or maybe that was just house pride.

McGongagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry, though the intimidating effect was somewhat lessened by the smile playing about her lips. "I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you."

She paused, and then grinned – she never grinned, but she was doing a lot of it in these past ten minutes, and Harry was feeling rather unsettled.

"Your father would have been proud," she said. "He was an excellent Quidditch player himself – a Chaser, though, not a Seeker. Well done, Harry."

* * *

"Congratulations," Su beamed at Harry.

They were sitting in the Hospital Wing next to Neville's bed – he was expected to be released by dinnertime and they had come to keep him company until then.

"You're an amazing flier! I'm so excited – you're going to play Quidditch! I'll be cheering for you… except, I suppose, in a Ravenclaw-Gryffindor match. I don't think Cho would like it if I cheered against her."

"Who's Cho?" Harry asked.

"My cousin," Su explained. "She's the Ravenclaw reserve Seeker, but Midgen's graduating this year, so hopefully next year she'll get the spotlight."

"Ravenclaw has reserves?" Harry asked. He tried to think of any reserve Gryffindor players, but couldn't. Of course, he had only made the team an hour ago.

"Of course," Su looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "What if somebody is injured, or if the game goes on for three days and the players need sleep? Always, _always_ have a back-up plan Harry. Murphy's Law: what can go wrong, will go wrong."

"Right," Harry glanced at Neville, who shrugged helplessly.

"Thanks again, Harry," he said. "For my Remembrall, I mean. You didn't have to do that. Not for me."

"What are you talking about? You're my best friend, of course I had to."

"What about me?" Su crossed her arms and glared teasingly. "Am I not your best friend?"

"You're both my best friends," Harry rolled his eyes.

Su grinned. "You're both _my_ best friends, too. I've never had a best friend before."

"Me neither," Neville grinned. "It's pretty brilliant."

"It is," Harry agreed. "Very brilliant indeed." He glanced at the Remembrall in his hand. It had turned red. Oh, yeah.

"I almost forgot," he said, as the Remembrall cleared again. "About the Seeker thing. Wood wants me to keep it a secret – so that the other teams can't prepare."

"Oh, yes, it would be a surprise," Su agreed. "Especially since first-years aren't usually allowed on the teams. They're not likely to guess that you're the secret Seeker."

Neville snickered. "'Secret Seeker! Ha!" The others laughed as well – they were all a little hysterical, Madam Pomfrey thought, having caught the tail end of their conversation. They were probably tired from their first few weeks in a new school, and emotionally exhausted after all the injuries and excitement of the past few hours.

"All right," she pulled back the curtain, startling the three students. "Mr Longbottom should be quite recovered by now, so you three should run along to dinner. Don't let me be seeing any of you any time soon," she scolded, though she expected to see Longbottom again, probably accompanied by a worried Harry, or Su, or both.

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey," Longbottom said again, smiling sheepishly at her.

She just rolled her eyes and shooed them out of her Hospital Wing.

When the three of them arrived at the Great Hall for dinner, Fred and George ambushed them at the door, tucking something that was pink and many-legged into their bag as they ran forward. Su wondered if it was Lee's tarantula.

"Well done," George grinned. "Wood's just told us. We're on the team too – Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't even won a game since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant."

George nodded. "You must be good, Harry. Wood was almost skipping when he told us. Or was it singing? Maybe he was singing _and_ skipping!"

The twins snickered.

"Anyway, we've got to go. Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school," Fred smirked at his twin.

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy we found in our first week," George smirked back. "Anyway, Harry, we'll see you 'round."

"Bye," Harry waved to them. Su and Neville were talking about plants behind him – he guessed it must be something about their Herbology homework.

They'd only just stepped into the Hall itself when they were stopped yet again, this time by Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Bet your muggles feed you pig slop, don't they? Have fun playing with the savages when you go home."

"You're a lot braver now that you've got your little friends to back you up," said Harry coolly. There was, of course, nothing 'little' about Crabbe and Goyle, but as they were in full view of all the teachers at the High Table, neither could do more to Harry than growl and crack their knuckles. They looked ridiculous.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," protested Malfoy – he lit up. Harry expected he'd just hatched a plan. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wand's only. What's the matter, Potter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose."

"Don't be ridiculous," Su snapped, glaring at Malfoy. "You're being spectacularly childish for the Heir to the Noble House Malfoy. All these petty power games, making enemies and not allies – what would your father say, Draco?"

Malfoy paled. Harry was impressed. 'My father says' was one of Malfoy's favourite phrases, and he managed to work it into a sentence at least once a day – and that was only when Harry was close enough to listen.

"Let's go, Harry, and leave this fool to his thoughts," Su grabbed Harry and Neville by their elbows, and dragged them into the hall. They were stopped again, this time by Blaise Zabini, who was grinning like the cat that had caught the canary.

"That was brilliant, Su," he said. "'What would your father say, Draco?' Ha! Did you see his face? Honestly, Li – why aren't you in Slytherin?"

"I look better in blue," Su replied immediately, and Zabini almost fell over, he was laughing so hard. The combination of Draco's dressing down and Su's dismissal of Slytherin in favour of fashion seemed to be his undoing.

"Well, if you ever change your mind about green, you know where to find us," Blaise waved as he jogged off to the Slytherin table, probably to tell his friends about the whole incident.

"So, what's a wizard duel?" Harry asked, when they were all seated at the Gryffindor table. Su ignored the odd looks she was getting for sitting at a different table – why shouldn't she sit with her friends?

"Well, a wizard's duel is… well, a duel," Neville supplied – Su had already heaped up a plate full of roast lamb and vegetables. "You know – you fight. With spells."

"Like gunslingers, Harry," Su added. "In those old western movies. Only, you have different sort of spells, and they're not all as deadly as bullets."

"I don't think you or Malfoy could even have a wizard's duel," Neville mused.

"Why not?"

"Well," Neville looked uneasy, but Harry nodded in encouragement. "Neither of you know enough magic yet. I mean, we only just started school. What are you going to do, transfigure a match into a needle and throw it at him?"

Harry blinked at Neville. Once. Twice. Then he threw back his head and howled with laughter. "Match – needle – throw it at him! Neville, you're the best!"

Su giggled. "You're hilarious Neville."

The three of them were laughing so hard they could hardly breath – when Dean and Seamus asked what was up, they explained Neville's idea of a first-year wizard's duel – that joke made the rounds for a week and a half.

* * *

**A/N: **_So... Harry's on the Quidditch team, Neville is the victim of scheming Slytherins, Su's showing herself to be quite protective of her friends, and the plot has gone... nowhere. You know, Quidditch adds very little to the plot of the books - but it does add an element of enjoyment to Harry's life. I know that everyone is looking for adventure and drama, but he's just a kid who wants a break. _

_I think Quidditch, in both canon and this story, is an escape for Harry from the harsh reality that is his life. Also, for Su, this life is also very real, so she too can distract herself from the schemes of body-less Dark Lords and fears of being discovered as a sort-of-dead person from another universe. _

_Also, I think, a relationship with the characters on the Quidditch team, particularly Fred, George, and Oliver, may be important later..._

_Anyway - feel free to review and tell me what you think! Also, from my point of view, Pansy and Millicent picking on Su would be considered 'canon', because the confrontation on the train probably would have gone down in a similar way. _


	8. Fluffy, the Three Headed Dog

**Author's Note:** _Reviews! They keep me alive and writing! You must... keep them... coming *gasps for breath - dying - barely holding on*__  
_

_While there is still breath in my body... the Plot... it must go on!_

* * *

**~ Fluffy, the Three Headed Dog ~**

After their semi-failed attempt at humiliating Su during their flying lessons, Pansy and Millicent had gone back to their more basic bullying techniques, but with a lot more intensity. She found herself being shoved from the top of staircases or into conjured puddles of mud. Her homework went missing with alarming frequency, and she began to suspect her fellow Ravenclaws as being under the Slytherins' pay – she had had to learn a text-copying charm from a fourth year in order to keep multiple copies of the same essay, and even then, sometimes they still went completely missing.

She had earned three detentions from Snape.

"Just because you are a capable student, Miss Li," he had sneered. "Does not mean you are exempt from the expectations held to all your peers. Five points from Ravenclaw."

She had cried for three hours after that, whilst Harry and Neville assured her that Snape was a scary, mean old bat – and that that she earned her points back by answering questions in every class.

She took to delivering her essays to her teachers as soon as they were written, not wanting to chance a theft, or even leaving her work unsupervised for a few minutes.

She also discovered that there was an unnecessary amount of underused and out-of-the-way broom closets, because she found herself locked inside one at least twice a week, with a handful of unsuccessful attempts in between. She had become a dab hand at that nifty _alohomora _charm – real useful, that one.

Professor Flitwick had taken points off of the two Slytherins when he saw them taunting Su in the hall outside his Charms classroom, and they didn't dare do anything whenever Professor McGonagall was in sight – so the teachers had only a vague idea of what was happening to the young Ravenclaw, who was too busy completing homework for the third time to make a complaint to a person of authority.

And so it was, that Pansy and Millicent's unrelenting torment led to the incident, in the last week of September, in which Harry, Neville, and Su first met Fluffy the Three-Headed Dog.

* * *

"Did you know that only one of the five most recent Dark Lords to terrorise Britain was a Slytherin?" She asked. She was sitting at a table in the library with Harry, Neville, Padma Patil, Lisa Turpin, and Hermione Granger, as they were working their Herbology, History, and Astronomy essays together.

"Only one? Are you sure?" Lisa squinted at Su sceptically.

"Well, only if you consider Dark Lord's to be leaders of terrorist organisations," Su admitted. "But there are a lot of petty criminals from all houses. The reason I'm bringing it up is that I overheard one of the older students – I'm not sure whom – saying something like; 'there isn't a witch or wizard who went dark that wasn't in Slytherin'. I found that to be an incredibly stupid and prejudiced thing to say. So I researched it."

"And what did you find out?" Padma put her book aside. She'd heard the rumours and prejudices too, and wondered how much was based in truth.

"Well, during the most recent war, a great majority of Voldemort– uh, You-Know-Who's Death Eaters were Slytherins," Su admitted, stumbling when the others winced at the Dark Lord's name. "However, there were also _at least_ thirteen former Ravenclaws, eight former Hufflepuffs, and two former Gryffindors – and those were only the ones who were caught and confirmed."

"Thirteen Ravenclaws?" Padma repeated.

"_Eight_ 'Puffs?" Lisa gaped.

Su nodded. "My guess is that You-Know-Who offered arcane knowledge of the Dark Arts… or even just regular Arts to the Ravenclaws who followed him – he was very learned, must've been, to defeat all those greats who tried to fight him. As for the Hufflepuffs – well, maybe they had family he swayed; their loyalty _is_ legendary."

"What about the Gryffindors?" Hermione squeaked.

Su shrugged. "I've no idea. They were tempted by the glory of battle, maybe? Gryffs can be wild cards sometimes, especially since there are so many definitions of 'brave'. Also, did you know, that some of You-Know-Who's greatest enemies were Slytherins? The Richards and the Michaels and the Fiennes lines all died out because they fought against Grindelwald and then You-Know-Who."

"Wow," Neville gaped at her, wide-eyed.

"What about the other Dark Lords?" Harry asked. "If they weren't Slytherins, I mean."

"Well," here, Su pulled out an enormous book, which would have been twice as heavy as she was if she hadn't cast a feather-light charm on it. As it was, she still struggled to drop it onto the table, which groaned in protest. "Look – in the last two hundred and fifty years there have been five significant Dark Lords. Obviously there is You-Know-Who… does anyone know his real name? I mean, the book says that he was a Slytherin, but how do they know? Anyway: we've got one Slytherin, whose goal is unclear, but it appears to be 'kill all muggle-borns and muggles and half-breeds'. Defeated by Harry Potter."

Everyone turned to look at Harry, except for Su, who was still reading.

"Then there's Grindelwald, who wasn't a Hogwarts student, so he has no house affiliation. His goal was to conquer, well, the world: rule over muggles and wizards in some sort of benevolent dictatorship – it's funny, though, all the books written about Grindelwald's rise to power are either really vague, or impossible to find. Odd. Defeated by Albus Dumbledore.

Before Grindelwald, there was an ex-Gryffindor. Well, sort of. Expelled in his fourth year because of a prank gone wrong and interference by Proteus Black. He vowed vengeance for all mistreated muggle-borns like himself, gathered a group of similarly downtrodden people, and tried to overthrow the ministry. Defeated by a group of unidentified muggles – gunned down 'bout halfway through World War One, by the looks of it."

"World War One?" Neville asked. "There were more?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll lend you a book," she said, which was an improvement on offering a two-hour lecture, but Neville guessed that she was interested in what Su had to say.

"Before the Gryffindor there was a Ravenclaw," Su went on. "Less of a Dark Lord and more of a Dark Lady. Her goal was to become immortal and gain all knowledge of… well… everything. The wizarding world wouldn't have thought she'd be a problem until she learned some kind of succubus ritual and began harvesting the souls of wizards to increase her magic and lifespan. This is an interesting case actually, because usually Dark Lords have to have followers, but she was just a lone witch, terrorising most of Europe. Disappeared. No one knows what happened to her.

Finally, the fifth most recent Dark Lord to terrorise Britain is Sigvard Pilkvist," Su had trouble sounding out the name. "He was Swedish, and, apparently, mad. He just wanted to blow Britain right out of the water. Maybe he had an English girlfriend and got dumped? Anyway: he offed himself in about 1768."

She closed the book and grinned at her classmates.

"Not counting regular old criminals, out of the five most recent Dark Lords to terrorise Britain, one was – allegedly – a Slytherin, one a Ravenclaw, one a Gryffindor, and two were not educated at Hogwarts, thought You-Know-Who's still up for toss as far as I'm concerned. Fascinating, isn't it?"

The others all agreed – Su could tell that Hermione, Lisa, and Padma were going to go off and research and confirm everything she'd just told them. True Ravenclaws, she thought – even, or especially, Hermione.

_Really, _Su thought with a sigh, _why on earth is that girl in Gryffindor? Besides, she'd look so much better in blue – although getting her teeth fixed might help too._

Hermione, Padma, and Lisa finished their homework and said goodbye – they were headed to bed. Harry, Neville, and Su waved at them and then went back to their own homework. Su was creating more copies and occasionally answering one of Harry's questions about Charms, or Neville's questions about Potions.

Neville helped his friends with their Herbology reviews, and Harry explained how he thought he'd gotten one of his transfigurations spells right to Su.

Before they knew it – it was almost curfew.

They had no idea that they were about to be ambushed.

* * *

Lisa Turpin was a smart girl, but not a rich girl. She had been earning some pocket money over the last month by tormenting Su Li, and only felt a little bit guilty about it.

Honestly – that girl had no house pride! Gallivanting with Gryffindors, and consorting with Slytherins (she paired with Blaise Zabini _every time_ in Astronomy, what was up with that?) – and sitting at the Gryffindor table as well!

When Li had invited her to study, along with Padma, Hermione, and Li's little Gryffindor pets, well, Lisa wondered if she could earn enough cash from Parkinson to buy that _gorgeous_ chess set she'd seen in Diagon Alley.

Chess was the game for intellectuals, after all – and besides, Parkinson had connections, which would be very important for her future career as youngest ever Minister for Magic.

Besides, the chess set was blue marble – and blue was her absolute favourite colour.

It had been settled, at that thought – she would tell Parkinson what was happening and receive her instructions and her Galleons. She couldn't wait.

Stealing Li's homework had been a little trickier lately – there were so many copies, and the girl had learnt a few protective spells. Fortunately for Lisa, the spells were only very mild stinging hexes, and if she wore her dragon-hide gloves she'd be fine.

Arranging to keep the group in the library until after curfew had been a little more difficult to organise – but then she came up with a 'meeting' with Professor Flitwick about Charms to keep Hermione and Padma – and by extension, Li and her Lackeys – waiting. The fake meeting had turned into a real debate, but an hour and a half late, Lisa arrived at the library.

Hermione and Padma finished their homework quickly, which was good, and Lisa kept Su distracted from her actual work by encouraging heated discussions about the classes and subject matter.

When she left the library, with only a half-hour 'til curfew, Lisa separated from Padma and Hermione, begging need of 'the facilities'. She met Parkinson, took her bag of Galleons, and went to bed that night feeling incredibly smug.

* * *

Su was wondering if she should tell Harry and Neville about the situation with Pansy and Millicent. They knew that someone was targeting her – all her missing homework accounted for that – but Su had been determined to handle it on her own.

Still – she'd ended up in Hospital Wing twice in the last three days, though Madam Pomfrey had fixed her up rather quickly. Perhaps it was time to take more precautions.

As soon as the thought entered her head, all hell broke loose.

Draco had griped to Pansy a few weeks previously about his plan to get 'Perfect Potter' into trouble with Filch – it would have worked, too, if that stupid Chinese bint hadn't gotten in the way and humiliated him.

Pansy was itching for revenge – on Draco's behalf, of course – and decided that the best way to get said revenge was to implement the failed plan… with a few tweaks.

And so it was that she 'warned' Filch of a plot set up by some of her fellow first years to vandalise the corridors outside of the library with dung-bombs and a painted mural that sang 'it's a small world' until it drove all passers-by mad.

Filch had loped off immediately, muttering about disrespectful kids and how he'd like to hang all students upside-down in the dungeons by their toes.

He arrived outside the library just in time to see someone a cloud of dung-bomb vapour explode in the hallway, with the silhouettes of four young students standing in the mist – snot-nosed brats! He'd teach them!

"You rotten kids!" He shouted. "I'll get you for this!"

Millicent had popped up in front of the trio as soon as they left the library, a large bag in her hands and a huge smirk on her face. Before anyone could speak, she threw the bag down in front of them, leaving them choking on the fumes, and ran away.

Somewhere behind them they heard Filch shouting.

"Come on!" Harry gasped, grabbing both his friends and dragging them away. "Filch is going to kill us! We have to run!" They saw Millicent turn a different corner, smirking and waving at them, but Filch was coming up fast and they didn't have time to turn around and chase her.

"What's going on?" Neville panted, as they jogged up a flight of stairs – they didn't know where they were going, only that they had to get _away_. "We smell like dung-bomb! If he finds us he'll blame us!"

"So run!" Su gasped, pushing him from behind, looking around frantically and hoping Filch wouldn't use a secret passageway shortcut to cut them off.

They stumbled up a staircase, ran down a corridor, turned left, right, and left again, stumbling to a stop when they arrived in a darkened corridor.

"Do you think we lost him?" Su asked, clutching her chest and willing her heart rate to slow down. She really had to work on her fitness.

"I don't know," Harry murmured.

All three of them jumped when a door slammed somewhere nearby.

"I know you're here, somewhere, kiddies," Filch growled. "You're going to regret that – I'll make sure of it! Stupid, rotten kids!"

"Let's go!" Su pushed Harry and Neville to the end of the corridor.

"The door's locked!" Neville hissed, jiggling the handle – they could hear Filch's footsteps coming closer. "What are we going to do?"

"Hang on," Su stepped forward and pulled out her wand. "_Alohomora._ All right, it's open now – get in quick! And be quiet! Not a sound, understand?"

They tiptoed into the room at the end of the corridor, each of them holding their breath and pressing their ears to the door, listening out for Filch.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Filch sang quietly. Su almost expected him to start rhyming: _Fee, Fie, Foe, Fum, I smell the blood of student-scum_. The three of them were trembling with fear – what would Filch _do_ to them if he caught them?

For a few, painfully tortuous minutes, everything was silent… and then someone let out a high pitched cackle that scared them so badly they almost wet themselves.

"PEEVES!" Filch bellowed. "You menace! You get back here! Have you seen any students out of bed?"

"Nasty students out of bed? Peeves hasn't seen any naughty students at all. Peeves is the only naughty one here," he cackled again, and the trio could hear Filch swearing and ranting and storming off, gone to look for the troublemakers elsewhere.

They slumped against the door in relief, but when Harry turned around to look around the room, he froze.

"Nobody make any sudden moves," he whispered.

They weren't in a room – they were in a corridor. As in, the forbidden third-floor corridor that was supposedly incredibly deadly. Well. Now he knew why it was forbidden – and deadly.

Carefully, Su and Neville turned around as well. Su inhaled sharply at the sight before them, and Neville stifled a squeak behind his hand. None of them moved as the giant, three-headed dog rolled over in its sleep.

"Do you think the coast is clear outside?" Su whispered. Harry nodded. Carefully – very, very carefully – they pulled open the door and tiptoed back out into the not-forbidden area of the school, only daring to breath once they somehow made it to the junction in which they usually split up – Harry and Neville going to Gryffindor Tower, and Su running off to Ravenclaw.

They paused, each of them looking at the others for an explanation of what on earth just happened. Well – Harry and Neville exchanged glances and then turned to look at Su, who kept her gaze on the ground and was twirling her wand in her fingers, as was her nervous habit.

"What–" Harry choked and took another breath. "What was that?"

"I dunno," whispered Neville. "But I think it was guarding something."

"Guarding something?"

"It was sleeping on a trapdoor."

"Why is there a deadly and dangerous three-headed monster in a school where any first year can unlock the door and get eaten?" Harry hissed, starting to panic.

Su was still silent and trembling.

Harry looked at her, concerned. "Are you all right, Su?" He asked.

She burst into tears. Well. Harry had no idea what to do with a crying girl – neither did Neville, from the looks of it. They looked at each other helplessly for a moment, and then cautiously stepped forward and patted her on the back. Su just cried even harder, and grabbed them both to her, hugging them while she wet their clothes with huge, racking sobs. They were wide-eyed and rather uncomfortable at this point, but decided there was nothing for it except to let her calm down.

"I'm sorry," she wailed. "Its all–" _gasp_ "–my–" _sob _"–fault!"

"No it's not," Neville murmured. He was still entirely uneasy with his armful of crying girl. "Why would you say that?"

"P-Pansy and M-Millicent are after _me_," she blubbered. "And now I've dragged you two into it all as well! I'm so _sorry_!"

"Hey, calm down, Su," Harry gripped her by the shoulders and pushed her away – she was getting snot on his shoulder and it was gross. "What's this about?"

"Pansy's made me her nemesis! And she's been stealing my homework and jinxing me, and pushing me down stairs – and locking me in broom closets – and I thought I could handle it, but I didn't think she'd get you two involved, and I'm really, really sorry that I dragged you into this, and I'm really, really sorry that we almost got in trouble, and I'm really, really sorry about the dog–"

"Su!" Harry interrupted, shaking her. "It's all right. We're okay, okay? I–" he cut himself off, looking around as if he'd only just noticed how late it was. "Look; let's talk about this tomorrow, okay? I think we all just need to get some sleep tonight."

"And take a bath," Neville added, wrinkling his nose at the smell of dung-bomb in his robes. "We all kind of stink."

Su laughed through her tears, and wiped her face, nodding.

"All right," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

_That'll give her some time to calm down_, Harry thought. He glanced down at his robes and grimaced. _These'll have to go in the wash straight away._

He wondered, as he walked with Neville to Gryffindor Tower, what the three-headed dog was guarding. Wasn't it Hagrid who said that Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide – except perhaps Hogwarts?

It appeared as though Harry had discovered where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen had been taken.

* * *

All of her roommates were already asleep by the time Su was washed and dried and no longer crying, or smelling like dung bomb. She sighed as she climbed into bed – Harry and Neville were good mates, and she and Padma got along okay, but she wasn't very close to the other girls in her house. Cho was in the year above her and a bit busy with her own friends and Quidditch training – too busy to concern herself with a cousin that she didn't have much in common with anyway.

Still, she sort of wished that she could have a friend – a girl, even – that she could spend time with in her own house, and talk about girl stuff with (not that she really had much 'girl stuff' to talk about at this stage anyway).

Sighing again, Su rolled over and pulled her blankets up to her chin, soon falling into a deep and restless sleep.

* * *

She had been having the same dream every few days for the past month now.

It was always the same.

She was in the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries, standing in front of the Veil. It whispered to her – beckoned to her – invited her towards it. But she was afraid of it; afraid to fall through it only to find herself lost forever to both worlds: her own original home, and this new life in Harry-Potter-Land.

Somewhere else in the room was another girl. Su could never see her clearly – only ever catching a glimpse of blonde hair, or seeing the hazy blur of a little girl twirling around in a blue dress.

Sometimes she called out to the other girl – but she only heard a light, tinkling laugh in reply. Sometimes Su chased her around the chamber – but she could never glimpse more than a pale hand, or a fluttering blue dress.

Today, though, today the Veil was more inviting than ever. It made her promises, promises she was sure that it would keep.

_This world frightens you_, it said. _It is wild and dangerous. I hold peace, and comfort. Come back to me – to the place that you belong. There is no fear through the Veil; no bullies or deadly monsters; only peace… _

Su climbed up onto the dais, walking towards the Veil.

It was right, of course – she was afraid. She wanted the peace that it offered her. She wanted to be in a safe place. She wanted to _belong_, because she didn't belong anywhere: not in Harry's world, not in life. The Veil was the answer to all her fears and doubts – all she had to do was pass through…

A hand snatched at her sleeve, pulling her backwards until she tumbled off the dais. She found herself lying on her back, blinking up at a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, looking very, very serious.

"Who are you?" Su asked, but the girl shook her head.

"Don't," she said.

"Don't what?" Su frowned.

The girl looked fearfully at the Veil, then back at Su, still shaking her head.

"Don't go through the Veil?" Su wasn't sure what was going on. This had never happened before. The girl grabbed both of Su's hands in hers, pleading with her eyes, begging that Su never approach the Veil, ever again.

_Promise_, her eyes seemed to say. _Promise me you won't pass through_.

"I promise," Su whispered.

* * *

**A/N: **_Oooooh, what's this? Mysterious dreams of the Department of Mysteries? Fascinating. Also - Fluffy is a lot scarier in person. I don't think Su expected to be dragged into this little adventure. Pansy and Millicent are such brats - I wonder if they'll mature as time goes on, or if they'll become more dangerous? _

_That whole history about 'Dark Lords' etc is completely made up - by me - so if that's not your interpretation of canon, that's fine. If you have anything to add to it though, feel free. I'm really interested in what other people think Wizarding History and Society contains. _

_Also: Christmas presents! I have to get through Halloween first, but after that there will be Christmas presents, and I'm not yet sure what I'm getting for any of the characters. If you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them. _


	9. Halloween

**Author's Note:** _So... the Halloween chapter. It diverges from canon quite a bit, so I'm interested in your opinions concerning the changes. _

_Also: Christmas presents. Any ideas? Prank suggestions are fun too. I'll totally credit you if you give me an idea that I'll use :)_

* * *

**~ Halloween ~**

"I think I know what was under that trapdoor," said Harry, as soon as he and Neville greeted Su outside the Fat Lady's portrait. Neville groaned.

"I don't want to think about it, Harry," he said. "I had nightmares about the dog all last night – imagining if it had been awake. Do you know what it's like to be eaten by a three-headed dog?" Harry shook his head. "Well, I don't want to find out."

"We don't have to go back," Harry assured him. "I just think I know what it is. Maybe. See, on my birthday, Hagrid took me to Gringotts and he took out a package from one of the vaults – it was the same day that someone broke into the bank. I think that whatever that dog is guarding is the same thing taken from Gringotts."

"Why do you think that?" Neville asked.

"Hagrid told me that Gringotts is the safest place on earth, except for Hogwarts – I think he took that package from the vault to take it to Hogwarts for protection."

"Harry," Neville stopped walking, and grabbed his friend by the sleeve. "_Nowhere_ is more protected than Gringotts. Especially not if a group of first-years," he gestured to the three of them, "can get through the first door. If that package _is_ here, in Hogwarts, then the third-floor corridor is either a decoy, or a trap."

"Or both," Su murmured.

Harry's face fell. He had sort of been hoping for an adventure.

"We can still find out what's going on," Neville rushed to add. "We just… you know… don't have to go near the dog to find out."

"I suppose," Harry nodded, but he trudged down to the Great Hall in heavy spirits.

He cheered up, though, when the mail arrived, with a parcel for him. It was a long, thin box – like the one the Dursleys kept their plastic Christmas tree in during the off-season – and the six owls carrying it dropped it unceremoniously into his breakfast, knocking his bacon to the floor.

A moment later, a second owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel, which Harry ripped open, while also thinking that this particular method of delivery couldn't be very good for delicate items – what if someone was delivering glass?

The note read:

_DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE. It's your new Nimbus 2000. Oliver Wood and I agree that no one is to know that you are Gryffindor's seeker until the first match, so don't tell anyone about it – except for Mr Longbottom, I suppose. _

_Wood will meet you on the Quidditch Pitch, at seven o'clock tonight to begin your training. Good luck, Mr Potter, and well done. _

Harry grinned and shoved the letter at Neville, whose eyes widened in shock.

"Blimey, Harry," he murmured.

They shovelled their breakfasts into their mouths and then ran over to the Ravenclaw table to interrupt Su's discussion with Penelope Clearwater about space-expansion charms, and how runes could be used to give the charms more flexibility.

"Su! Su! Look at this!" Harry was grinning from ear to ear, positively giddy.

Su took the note from his hand and smiled when she read it.

"Sorry, Penny, I have to go." Without waiting for an answer, the three of them dashed out of the Great Hall, eager to open the package and admire the broom.

However, Malfoy and his goons stopped them in the Entrance Hall. Harry really was getting tired of Malfoy and his jibes and sneers. If only he could fob him off onto some other victim. Suddenly – it hit him.

Malfoy was just about to snatch the package out of Harry's hands when Harry said:

"Look, Malfoy, if this is about that rumour that your father is a dirty, rotten criminal – that wasn't me. Ron Weasley was telling Seamus and Dean about a raid on your house this morning at breakfast; he's the one who said that."

"He what?" Malfoy snapped, whipping around to glare at the distant redhead, who had, indeed, been discussing a raid on the Malfoy house with his housemates. "I'll show him!" Malfoy stormed off, Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

_I wasn't even lying,_ Harry thought, grinning. Su's method of distracting one's enemies was pretty brilliant. He'd have to employ it more often – he'd almost forgotten how easy it had been to distract Dudley with a snide remark and then run away before his cousin figured out that he had been insulted.

True, Malfoy was marginally more intelligent than Dudley – but he also had the same weaknesses: the need to defend his pride.

"That was brilliant, Harry," Neville gaped.

"Yes, yes, you're amazing, whatever," Su pushed them both towards an empty classroom. "I want to see that broom!"

They stumbled into the classroom, Su closing the door and casting a light locking charm on the door. "Where'd you learn to do that, Su?" Neville asked.

"A fourth year told me," Su replied. "I needed to increase security on my trunk – I think Pansy has hired someone in my house to steal things from me. My shoes have already gone missing."

"What?" Harry was distracted from the broom now. "Someone's stealing from you?"

Su shuffled sheepishly, not looking either of her friends in the eye. "Er, well, I think so… I might just be paranoid. Still, it's a precaution."

"Why would Pansy hire someone to steal your stuff?" Harry demanded. He had been distracted the night before, by Su's crying, and the three-headed monster, but now he was recalling her sobbed confession that Parkinson was tormenting her.

Su looked around, uneasy, but there was no escaping her friends' concern.

"Well…" she explained to them about the meeting with Pansy and Malfoy on the train, and how Blaise told her that Pansy had decided that Su was her 'nemesis'. As she began to explain the pranks that had been played on her, Harry and Neville now had an explanation for Su's proneness to accidents and trips to the Hospital Wing, which had almost rivalled Neville's in frequency.

As he listened, Harry grew angrier, and angrier. He hated bullies – always had. Dudley had made his life a misery for the last ten years, and he wasn't about to let that happen to his first, and best, friend.

"But I can handle it!" Su assured them. "They're just kids."

"Are you sure?" Neville asked.

Harry was already plotting.

"Let's just look at the broom," Su leapt forward and grabbed the parcel, effectively distracting her friends. "I've never seen one up close before! I wonder how they work – I mean, I know there are a whole bunch of complicated charms, but there are also supposed to be inlaid rune-clusters, each of them well-kept secrets of the broom companies. Fascinating, isn't it?"

They unwrapped the broom and spent several minutes admiring it – it was sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle and the words _Nimbus 2000_ in neat gold lettering at the top of the handle. Su thought the rotating stirrups were a particularly genius addition.

"For balance," she said. "So you don't slide off the end of it."

Soon, however, they had to go their separate ways: Harry and Neville to Potions, Su to Defence Against the Dark Arts. Snape continued to sneer and scowl, but maintained an oddly cold distance from Harry since that first lesson. Su mentioned that she didn't like Quirrell – there was always something off about the way he spoke about his personal experiences with Dark Creatures.

* * *

Seven o'clock couldn't come soon enough, in Harry's opinion. At six-thirty, right after dinner, he raced down to the Quidditch Pitch, Su and Neville following behind, carrying their homework. They were planning to sit in the stands while he practiced.

Wasting no time, Harry mounted his broom and launched into the air – simply basking in the thrill of flying. Some time later, he heard Wood calling for him to come down.

"Blimey, Harry," Wood grinned. "McGonagall was right – you're a natural!"

Harry blushed.

"All right," Wood reverted into a serious mood. "What do you know about Quidditch so far? Have you read those books I recommended?"

Harry had. Ron Weasley – when he heard the news from his brothers – had given Harry even more books: most of which were about the Chudley Cannons. Neville had regaled him with tales of the Appleby Arrows, and Su had given him a booklet about the Holyhead Harpies that she had gotten off her cousin.

"There are seven players in a Quidditch team," Harry began. "The Chasers try to throw the Quaffle through one of the three hoops to score ten points apiece; the Keeper – that's you," Oliver grinned, "defends the hoops. The Beaters defend their teammates from the Bludgers, and try to knock the other team off their brooms. The Seeker – that's me – searches for the snitch. The Seeker that catches the snitch ends the game and earns one hundred and fifty points."

He decided not to mention Su's rant about how terribly unbalanced the Seeker's position was, and how Seeking and Chasing/Keeping/Beating might as well be an entirely separate sport from Seeking for all the effect the regular scores had on the outcome of the game. Seventeen times out of twenty, the Seeker decided the game, which Su felt was entirely unfair. Neither Harry nor Neville agreed.

They both thought Quidditch was brilliant, and had left Su to her sulking.

"Excellent, Harry," Oliver beamed at him. "Alright, well, we're not going to set you on the snitch straight away. We'll just use these." He held up a basket of neon yellow golf balls. "Dunno what they are – Ian O'Gorman gave 'em to me. Something about a gulf?"

"They're golf balls," Harry supplied.

"What's golf?"

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted. "It's a muggle sport. It's pretty boring, too. Football's better. I'm an Arsenal supporter, but Dean Thomas barracks for West Ham."

"What?"

"Er, never mind." Harry had been delighted to learn that Dean Thomas was a football fan as well. They both discussed how much they enjoyed playing – though Harry neglected to mention that Dudley had made sure that Harry was never chosen for any teams in school, because he was better than his fat cousin and Dudley was jealous.

"Well, let's get started, then – shall we, Harry?"

Harry spent the next hour and a half chasing the golf balls that Oliver threw around the pitch. He only missed two – and one of those Su had been practicing _Wingardium Leviosa_ on, so he thought that that didn't count.

Neville practiced the charm as well, and succeeded near the end of Harry's training session. Everyone went to bed feeling extremely cheerful. Nobody noticed the shadows of to Slytherin girls, spying on them from elsewhere in the stands.

* * *

For the rest of September, Harry found himself really busy, with Quidditch practice three nights a week, and homework piling up. Su was in the Hospital Wing less and less, which either meant that Pansy and Millicent had backed off, or that Su had gotten better at dodging their attacks. Either way, Harry was still warily looking out for his friend.

In fact, during Quidditch practice, he had approached Fred and George Weasley – the notorious pranksters – to enlist their aid in protecting Su. Both thought this was a fine idea, remembering her as that ickle firstie who had suggested they charm Lee Jordan's tarantula bright pink.

Classes had also become a lot more interesting, now that they had mastered the basics of wand waving and magical theory. Harry was so distracted by homework, Quidditch practice, and keeping an eye on Su, that he almost forgot about the mysterious package from Gringotts and the three-headed dog from the third-floor corridor.

Before they knew it, it was Halloween. Everyone woke up to the delicious smell of pumpkin pies wafting through the corridor. Su had expressed her confusion over the dessert when told what the scent was – where she came from squashes were called pumpkins, and were often made into savoury soups. This had elicited confusion from her classmates, although it did explain why she never drank pumpkin juice.

Everyone was excited when Professor Flitwick announced that they would be learning how to make objects fly in Charms, though Harry, Neville, and Su smirked to each other, having worked ahead in both Charms and Transfiguration. All three of them had succeeded in levitating something – usually their spell books.

Harry had partnered with Neville, and Su sat with Padma Patil. Ron Weasley grimaced when he found himself together with Hermione Granger, though she obviously shared his revulsion. No one was quite sure why the two disliked each other so much.

Harry, Neville, and Su were the first to get the spell right, followed by Hermione and Padma. They fidgeted uncomfortably when Hermione scolded Ron on his technique.

"You're saying it _wrong_," she sighed, and corrected him. Ron just sulked.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he was saying to Seamus and Dean as they walked out of the classroom. "She's a nightmare, honestly."

Hermione shoved him to the side as she ran past, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I think she heard you," Dean frowned.

"So?" Ron asked, but he looked uncomfortable. Harry noticed he kept looking at Hermione's back. When she didn't show up for the next class, Ron slumped in his seat.

Before the Halloween feast, Oliver Wood wanted a quick training session with the whole Gryffindor team, just so that he could see some of their flying formations, and talk to the whole team in one go.

Su and Neville went to watch, but Oliver was done with Harry fairly soon, because he wasn't as involved with the rest of the team as Seeker. He and Neville went off to the Halloween feast, with Su promising to join them later, telling them that she wanted to observe Chaser and Keeper techniques.

"You're not spying for your cousin, are you?" Harry asked.

"No! I'm not!" Su gasped, but he just laughed.

"Kidding, Su," he said. "Nev and I will see you later, okay?"

"Okay."

She watched them walk off, joking and laughing, and turned back to watch the Gryffindor team practice formations and strategies, ducking a couple of times when a bludger came hurtling towards her head. The practice didn't take long – the team wanted to make it to the Halloween feast after all – and when they started to pack up, Su did the same.

She didn't notice the rock until it came down on her head. By then, it was too late, and she slumped over, unconscious.

* * *

Harry and Neville didn't see Su come into the Great Hall, but they supposed that she must be somewhere at the Ravenclaw table. They were soon distracted, however, by the incredible decorations of the Great Hall.

There were thousands of live bats fluttering around the walls and ceiling, swooping over the tables in thick black clouds, eating the chunks of meat thrown up at them by the students, who laughed and cheered when the bats fought over a chicken leg. The candles floated in carved pumpkins, whose faces ranged from goofy and fun, to downright disturbing and macabre. There was also, of course, the feast itself. Dinner had not been separated from dessert, tonight, and Harry's plate was piled high with roast potatoes and turkey and ice cream and treacle tart.

He had just served himself a second slice of pumpkin pie, when Professor Quirrell came barrelling into the Great Hall, slamming the doors open and startling all the students. Why hadn't Quirrell been in the Great Hall in the first place? All the other teachers were. He watched as Quirrell ran up to the High Table, his scar prickling as he stared at the back of the professor's horrible turban.

"Troll!" he shouted, collapsing into Professor Dumbledore's dinner. "In the dungeons!" Nobody moved. Quirrell whimpered. "I thought you ought to know." He fainted – right into Dumbledore's mashed potatoes – but at this point nobody was listening.

Everyone was screaming, running around like headless chooks. It took several purple fireworks exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to capture the student population's attention.

"SILENCE!" he shouted.

Everyone was still.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to their dormitories immediately!"

Harry could hear Blaise Zabini protesting in the distance: "But Slytherin's dormitory is _in_ the _dungeons!_ Is he trying to get us all killed?"

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked Neville, as they followed Percy Wealsey up to Gryffindor tower. "Isn't Hogwarts supposed to be super-safe?"

"I don't know," Neville whispered. "Trolls are supposed to be really stupid. Someone must of let it in – someone Dark."

Harry halted in his tracks. "Someone after whatever's in the third-floor corridor?"

Neville looked uneasy. "Maybe," he tugged on Harry's arm. "It's none of our business, Harry. Leave it to the teachers."

They made it, eventually, to Gryffindor tower, where Percy went through roll call in order to make sure that all first years were present and accounted for.

Only two people were missing: Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley.

Percy paled.

"Ron–" he gasped. "That git! He's probably run off, trying to be a hero!"

"Um, I think I know where he is," Parvati raised her hand. "He wanted to apologise to Hermione. She was upset by something he said, and has been crying in the girl's bathrooms all afternoon."

"Which bathroom?" Percy snapped. He was looking determined and panicked.

"Fourth floor."

"All right, none of you move," Percy swept towards the exit. "I'm going to rescue my brother." He turned around and glared at them all. "_Don't. Move_. It's my job to keep you all safe, understood?" They nodded, and with that, he stormed out of the common room.

"Huh," Seamus Finnegan blinked at the space their prefect had just been standing in. "I guess Percy's a Gryffindor after all."

The first years shuffled around the common room in tense silence, waiting for Percy to arrive with Ron and Hermione. An hour passed, then an hour more.

Still no sign of them.

"Where do you think they are?" Neville whispered.

McGonagall stepped into the room, looking pale.

"Students–" she began, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat. "Students; Miss Granger and Mr Weasley are in Hospital Wing – they will live, thank goodness, thanks to the efforts of your classmate's older brother. Percy will be with us shortly; he is discussing the event with Professors Dumbledore and Flitwick."

Sure enough, moments later, Percy stepped through the door, looking worn and pale, but also proud. There was a confident air about him that had not been present before; Harry supposed that saving one's brother from a troll would do that.

"I hope that you will, all of you, learn from this event," McGonagall told them, though wasn't exactly sure what they were supposed to have learned. "Your professors have got the situation under control, now. The troll will be gone by morning, please get some rest tonight, students – you have classes in the morning."

The tension died down with the reassurances that the problem had been solved. The Gryffindors began to discuss what they might have done if faced with a troll, though most of them understood that they would never actively seek one out. They all agreed that Ron and Hermione were to be congratulated on surviving the encounter.

"What do you think Quirrell was doing, wandering in the dungeons, anyway?" Harry asked Neville as they made their way up to their dormitory. "Why wasn't he at the feast?"

"Dunno," Neville frowned. "How come he didn't get the troll? He's our Defence teacher, right? It's a bit suspicious."

Harry agreed. "We'll ask Su what she thinks tomorrow."

* * *

Su woke up in a dark, cramped space. Her head was pounding, and her face was pressed up against something rough and dusty. She raised her hand and felt for what it was – a wooden door? Something was gnawing on her leg; she scowled and kicked at it.

Probably a rat – the school broom closets were infested with them.

She shivered. This one was a lot colder than the broom closets that she was used to being shoved into. Pansy and Millicent were probably behind this one as well.

She dug into her pocket to pull out her wand and escape.

Only… her wand wasn't there.

She sucked in a deep breath, listening to the rats shuffling about elsewhere in the closet. _Don't panic_, she thought. She felt around for her bag, but she couldn't find that either. _Just keep calm, _she told herself. _Someone will help you_.

She pressed her ear to the door, kicking the rat away from her leg again – persistent bugger – but she couldn't hear anyone moving around. They must all be in the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. Her stomach growled, and she hoped that when she was rescued the teachers would allow her to grab some dinner.

She pulled a stone-light out of another pocket, the one she kept for reading under her bedcovers. It had been a gift from Beatrice, who had had experience trying to read past curfew at Hogwarts.

"_Solaris_," she whispered. The light revealed a slightly bigger broom closet than she was used to – actually, looking closer at the wooden walls, she guessed that she was in one of the broom sheds out by the Quidditch pitch.

She turned around, looking for the rat that had been gnawing on her leg – but it wasn't a rat.

Su screamed. Standing behind her was Lord Voldemort, as he had appeared at the end of the Goblet of Fire movie – tall and sickly green and grim, he was sneering down his absent nose at her.

"Filthy mudblood," he hissed, raising his wand. "_Avada Kedav–_"

Su screamed again and punched him in the face. Voldemort howled.

"I'm not scared of you!" She lied, picking up a bucket and throwing it at his head.

Voldemort hissed and transformed… into the Veil.

Su froze.

_It's a boggart_, she thought. _Showing me my greatest fears_.

"I'm not scared of you," she whispered at the Veil. But it remained. She felt cold, and tempted. The Veil beckoned to her – she could hear its voices whispering to her.

Her mother's voice.

_"Su," _she heard her mother whisper. _"Where are you? We miss you. Come back to us." _

"Mum? Are… are you dead?"

_"Su… why did you leave? Why don't you ever listen to me? Your brothers have missed you so much… Kwon is fighting… Jo is still only a baby… why did you leave us?"_

"I didn't mean to," Su sobbed. She was glad that the Veil didn't move. If it came any closer she thought she might just pass through it.

_"You abandoned us!" _her mum shouted all of a sudden. _"How could you? You're ashamed of us, aren't you? Do you hate us? You always wanted things that I could never give you… Su. Please. Come back." _

"I want to," Su told her mother – the Veil – the boggart. "I want to. But I don't know how. Besides – I have friends here now. A family. A life. Bea's thinking of trying for kids – I might have another little brother or sister soon."

_"What about your own brothers, here, in the Real World?"_ her mum asked. _"Su, we love you. We want you back. All you have to do is step through the Veil." _

"I can't mum!" Su choked.

She hoped that someone would rescue her soon. She didn't think she'd be able to survive any longer with the boggart. She hoped her family was okay.

Suddenly the boggart changed again – and Su recognised her baby brother, Jo. He'd only been two when she left… was he four now? She'd gone back in time, so maybe he wasn't born yet? She wasn't sure how time worked between worlds and death and chronological displacement.

This Jo – the boggart-Jo – looked just as her brother had been when she last saw him, only now Su could see him being hit by a car… she screamed, but she didn't dare approach the boggart. She could only gape in shock and horror at her baby brother's bleeding body, his wide eyes staring up at her.

The boggart became her other little brother, Kwon, who was only a year younger than her. She saw him being beaten up by a group of bullies.

"You'll never have friends," they shouted. "You're just a freak! No one cares about you! Especially not your stupid, snotty sister!"

She leapt towards the boggart – tried to make it stop – but she couldn't see it clearly through her tears, and it darted out of her grip, transforming again.

"My baby!" Her mother wailed, clinging to her lifeless nine-year-old body. "Why? God why? Why have you taken my child from me? What have I done wrong?"

Su screamed and closed her hand around the stone-light, shoving it deep in her pocket. She didn't want to see any more. She couldn't handle any more.

She pressed herself against the door, and when she felt the boggart trying to eat her shoe she kicked it viciously away from her, and armed herself with buckets and brooms.

"Please," she whispered. "Please come. Please save me."

But no one came.

* * *

"Where's Su?" Harry asked Padma the next morning.

Padma looked up at him, shocked.

"No one knows," she told him. "She didn't come back to the common room last night. We thought she might have gone up to Gryffindor with you. Wasn't she sitting with you at the feast?"

"I thought she was sitting with you," Harry frowned. "We didn't see her at the feast."

"You don't think…" Neville swallowed, looking pale. "You don't think the– the troll _ate_ her, do you? Harry – we have to tell a teacher!" Harry nodded.

They ran up to the High Table, where McGonagall arched an eyebrow at them.

"Mr Potter, Mr Longbottom," she said. "How may I help you?"

"Su's missing!" Harry blurted. "Padma said that she didn't go back to Ravenclaw last night – but we didn't see her either! We have to find her!"

McGonagall frowned. "Calm down, Mr Potter – I will have to inform the Headmaster."

Flitwick and Snape, who had been sitting on either side of McGonagall, frowned also, as their colleague swept out of the room to wherever it was the Dumbledore lived whenever he wasn't presiding over school dinners.

"I was unaware that Miss Li did not come back to the common room," Flitwick said.

"Padma thought she came to Gryffindor with us," Harry explained. "That's probably what she told the prefects. But sir, Su never even came to the feast."

"The castle will be searched, Mr Potter," Flitwick assured him. "The Headmaster will find her. I promise. You'll have to attend regular classes, however."

"But sir–"

"I'm sorry, Mr Potter," Flitwick sighed. "That's just the way things are. I know that you're concerned about your friend, but until we find her, you will just have to be patient."

Harry glanced over at Snape, though he wasn't sure what he expected his surly Potions teacher to say.

"Miss Li is slack in her studies, perhaps she has holed herself up in the library in order to finish an essay due weeks ago," he suggested.

Harry scowled. "Su is _not_ slack! She works harder than everyone! But someone keeps stealing her homework, and then _you_ give her detentions for it! She even learned a copying charm, and locking charms to protect her stuff, but Pansy Parkinson's hired a thief in Ravenclaw!"

Snape blinked at him, and then sneered.

"Those are rather serious accusations, Mr Potter," he drawled, scowling at the boy. Harry scowled back, though Neville was trembling at his shoulder. "Miss Parkinson is a capable student of _my house_, any accusations against her are accusations against _me_."

"Now, Severus," Flitwick interrupted. "Mr Potter has also suggested that one of _my_ Ravenclaws is a thief."

"I'm only telling you what Su told me," Harry snapped. "And now she's missing, and you don't even care!"

"I assure you, that we do, indeed, care," murmured a soft voice. Harry jumped and spun around. Standing behind him, long silver hair shimmering in the morning sunshine, and eyes twinkling over his half-moon spectacles, stood Albus Dumbledore.

"I suggest you go to your classes," Dumbledore said. "I shall personally search the school for any sign of Miss Li, and will notify you the moment I find her."

Harry opened his mouth to say that he was going to look for Su, too, but Neville gripped his shoulder and shook his head.

"Thank you, sir," Neville nodded at Dumbledore. "We hope you find her, sir."

With that, Neville dragged Harry off to class.

Harry spent the whole day worrying, but Su didn't show up to Transfiguration, which meant that Snape couldn't possibly be right about her hiding out in the library. Su would never miss a class if she could help it. He wanted to try and talk to Dumbledore in the evening, but the Headmaster was not present at dinner that night.

Harry slept restlessly, his nightmares full of Su being attacked by Quirrell's turban or being eaten by a three-headed troll that looked remarkably like someone had squashed Crabbe and Goyle onto either side of Dudley.

"Neville," Harry gasped as his friend gathered up his Herbology notes the next morning. "We have to go look for her! What if she's hurt! What if… what if…" _what if she's dead?_ He thought, but he couldn't voice the words out loud. It couldn't be true. The troll went after Hermione and Ron, who were recovering in the Hospital Wing… but Pansy and Millicent were still suspects. Harry decided he'd corner them at lunchtime.

Herbology dragged on. Harry was so distracted that he broke two clay pots and walked into three of the greenhouse windows. Neville, by contrast, threw himself into his work so that he wouldn't worry too much about Su.

Charms followed, and Harry struggled without Su to guide him, though Padma did her best. The three of them made for a painfully morose group, worrying about their friend. Neville even set his feather on fire, though Flitwick was sympathetic to their concerns and only put the fire out without scolding them.

Finally – _finally_ – it was lunchtime, and Harry was ready to chase down Pansy Parkinson and put the fear of god into her until she revealed where she's locked Su up this time. If that didn't work, Harry would search every broom closet in the castle one by one, lessons be damned. He was really starting to worry.

He and Neville ran towards the Great Hall; only crash face first into the Weasley twins rounding the corner.

"Whoa, Harry," laughed Fred. "What's your hurry?"

"Is Filch on your tail?" George asked.

"Su is missing," Neville told them. The twins immediately became serious. "We think Pansy Parkinson locked her in a broom closet – we're going to ask, now."

The twins looked at each other, seeming to have a conversation with only a few twitches of their eyebrows. After a moment, they seemed to decide something.

"We've got a better idea," they chorused.

Fred grabbed Harry, and George steered Neville, and the four of them were soon hidden in the darkness of one of the school's many, many secret passages.

"_Lumos_," Fred whispered, lighting up the tip of his wand.

"Harry," George gripped him by the shoulder. "Neville. What you're about to see must never be revealed to anyone. It may help us find Su, but we can't let you use it unless you promise to keep it a secret. Understood?"

Harry and Neville glanced at each other before nodding determinedly.

Fred pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket. Harry and Neville craned their necks to get a good look at it… but it was blank.

"It's blank," Neville frowned.

"Ah," George grinned.

"That's what you think," said Fred.

George held his wand to the parchment and said: "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Slowly, a web of ink spread out from where the tip of his wand touched the parchment. It grew and shifted until Harry recognised what must have been a map of Hogwarts, dotted with hundreds of moving black figures with little labels next to them. On closer inspection… the labels were _names_.

At the top of the parchment was written:

_Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs  
Purveyors of Aid to Magical Mischief-Makers  
are proud to present_

_THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

"So this map," Harry began, peering at it, "it shows you everyone in the castle? All the secret passages and hidden rooms and stuff?"

"Of course," Fred grinned. "Some of our best pranks were pulled off with that map."

"We're using it for something much more serious, right now," George added, as the mood became solemn again. "Still, we'd like it back when you're done."

"Could you help us look?" Harry asked.

The twins snorted.

"Of course," said Fred.

"We're offended you felt the need to ask," added George.

The four of them put the map on the floor, each boy kneeling at one side of it. Harry and Neville only took a second or two to learn the _lumos_ charm, but soon the boys were poring over every inch of the inked-out castle. It was hard going, mostly because there were just so many _people_, and they all kept moving around. It did get easier when classes started again, because all the students were in one place – none of the boys seemed to mind that they were skiving off.

Harry squinted at every single dot, but he couldn't find Su's name anywhere. He hoped Fred, George, or Neville would have better luck – and soon.

* * *

Su had been in the broom shed for almost two days. She was exhausted. Every time she nodded off to sleep, the boggart would slink up and try to eat her – she wondered if it had already eaten all the rats around and that was why it had moved on to her.

She didn't really blame it. She was so hungry… she wondered if boggart was edible.

_I'm not that desperate_, she thought. _At least, not yet_.

The boggart was determined to drive her insane… and it was probably working. She was beginning to despair of ever being discovered. She could hear it whispering to her in the dark, telling her that her fears were real.

_"They're not coming," _it said. Its voice sounded oddly like her father's, but without the warmth and audible smile she had always known. _"No one cares. You're not supposed to be here anyway – they won't miss you when you're gone."_

"You're wrong," she told it, but she wasn't sure if she believed herself.

_"You'll die here," _it said. _"Alone in the dark. You'll become a ghost story; a legend. They'll never find the body… Voldemort will defeat Harry, because you messed with the plot. His death will be on your hands. Everything is all your fault."_

"Stop," Su sobbed. She was just so tired – too tired even to really feel afraid. She was tired and hungry and beaten. "Please! Somebody help me! I'm here! Please! _Please!_ I'm scared! Somebody! Anybody!"

She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to think of a way – any way – to escape.

She refused to die in a broom shed with a boggart.

Maybe…

"_Accio_ wand," she shouted. "_Accio_ wand! _Accio_ wand!_ Accio_ wand! _Accio_ wand!"

She didn't know if anything was happening, she didn't know if anyone would ever find her, but this was her last hope. If nothing happened, then at least she tried, but if her wand came… maybe she could unlock the door and escape.

"_Accio_ wand," she whispered. She didn't expect anything to happen. She was going to die – again – in a dark hole – again.

When she heard something scratching at the door, she jumped.

"Mrs Norris?" Hell, if she was _hoping_ to see that damned cat she must be mad.

It wasn't Mrs Norris though. Something wriggled under the crack beneath the door and nudged against her knee. Bracing herself, Su pulled out her stone-light and activated. She screamed, though she was already hoarse, when her boggart-corpse was revealed, maggots crawling from its eyes. She almost threw up.

Instead, she looked down – when she did, she began to cry, weeping for joy.

Somehow, from wherever it had been hidden, her wand had been summoned and worked its way under the door. Her summoning spell had worked!

"_Stupefy_!" she shouted angrily at the boggart, which had become a rattling door with her own screams of frustration echoing it from it. Figured that her greatest fear at this point would be a door impossible to lock. "I'm not falling for that," she whispered angrily at the unconscious boggart… it had remained a door.

"_Alohomora_," she whispered at the door, her voice worn from all the screaming. Finally – _finally_ – she was free! The first thing she would do, of course, was eat dinner, and maybe give Harry a hug – she definitely need a hug.

She pushed on the door… but it didn't open.

"No," she breathed. "No! No, no, no, no, NO! You can't– you can't be locked!" The door wouldn't move. "It's not _fair_! Let me _out!_" But her screams weren't more than whispers at this point, and all she could do was cry…

* * *

It was nearly dinnertime, but Harry, Neville, Fred, and George had not found Su anywhere in the castle. Did dead bodies have names? Were corpses still people, or were the classified as objects?

Neville began to cry. "She's… gone!" He sobbed.

"Dammit!" Harry threw down his wand and slumped against the wall. "Where could she be? What if we never find out what happened to her? What if… what if she's in the forbidden forest? What if she's at the bottom of the Black Lake?"

George shrugged, but they were all so tired. "I don't think we've checked outside the castle – might as well. The forest is a big place though… I dunno if we'll find her there."

"It's worth a shot, isn't it?" Harry asked, anxiously. "Let's just look."

Half an hour later, and Harry was almost ready to give up. He just couldn't find her anywhere…

"Wait!" Fred cried. "I think I've found her!"

The other three crowded around his corner of the map.

"Where?" Harry breathed, as Neville dried his eyes.

"Here," Fred pointed. "That old broom shed out behind the Quidditch Pitch. We had to abandon it because of the boggart."

"We'll get Wood," George grabbed the map again. "He's got a key to the shed – all the Quidditch captains do! Where is he? Oh, of course. Already out there. Quidditch nut."

"Let's go!"

The four of them dashed out into the halls, knocking the other students aside in their haste. Harry didn't even bother apologising – Su needed rescuing! It took them much longer than he liked to get out of the castle – stupid moving staircases – and then they had to run all the way down to the Quidditch Pitch.

He and Neville were out of breath by the time they got there, but Fred and George were already getting Oliver's attention.

"Oi! Wood! Get your arse down here!" Fred shouted.

"Yeah, you need to help us rescue a damsel in distress," George yelled.

Oliver, who had been practicing flying about the hoops, soon swooped down to meet them at the entrance to the pitch.

"What's this all about?" he asked, frowning.

"Potter's girlfriend's locked in the old broom shed! We need you to open it!"

"What? Potter?" Oliver's head swivelled between the four of them, confused.

"Su's been missing for two days," Harry explained. "We think she's in the broom shed, but we need a Quidditch captain to open it because you've got the keys."

"Oh, all right then, Harry," Oliver jogged over to his kit and pulled out a set of keys on a chain. "Lead the way, George."

"Aye-aye, Captain."

The Weasley twins led the way, with Harry keeping his eyes peeled for anything that resembled a broom shed. It was getting late, but eventually he saw a dark smudge amongst the grass that _had_ to be the shed.

Su heard voices – she didn't dare hope – but maybe…

"Su!" That was Harry's voice!

"Harry!" she shouted… or tried to shout. Her voice was nothing more than a thin whisper. Still, she started pounding on the door, hoping to get their attention.

"She's over here!"

"Oliver, give us the keys!" That was a Weasley twin – Fred, she was pretty sure. She could never tell them apart looking at them, but George had a slightly deeper voice, she always thought. Oliver… must be Oliver Wood, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.

Whoever it was, they were unlocking the door! She was beyond ready to get out of this stupid broom shed. She was crying again, but she was too relieved to care.

"Gotcha!" The door clicked open – Su rushed through it, launching herself at whoever it was that had opened the door. She didn't care who it was, but she swore she would love her rescuer – rescuers – for the rest of forever.

Oliver Wood found himself tackled to the ground by a flying ball of first-year-girl. A flying ball of _crying_ first-year-girl. He couldn't pry her off him either, because she was hugging him and sobbing and trying to say something but her voice was too hoarse for him to make out the words.

Looking past her shoulder into the broom shed he could see what had so upset her. There, in the corner, lay the girl herself, only she was dead – wide-eyed and pale white, obviously starved, with maggots in her eyes.

Oliver grimaced – being locked in a small, dark room with your worst fears… he couldn't even imagine it. Since he couldn't push the girl off him, he decided to hug her back. Poor thing needed comforting. Besides, Harry and his other first year friend – Neville, wasn't it? – were crowding around him, trying to make sure the girl was okay.

"Su? Su, we're here," Harry sobbed. He was just so relieved to have _found_ her. "Su, it's okay. We've got you."

"We have to take her to the Hospital Wing," Neville said, ever the voice of reason.

"Come on, Captain," the Weasley twins helped Oliver stand up, since his arms were full of Su. Was she… was she sleeping? The two redheads stood either side of their captain, ready to either catch Wood or the girl if either were to slip on the way to the castle. Harry and Neville jogged behind, falling silent now that they'd seen that their friend was, at the very least, alive.

Su, worn out from fear and anticipation, had somehow managed to fall asleep on Oliver Wood's shoulder as he carried her up to the castle. She didn't dream of anything, which was a blessing, because for the next few weeks she would be haunted by frightening nightmares that no eleven-year-old should ever be subjected to.

* * *

**A/N: **_I have now officially subject Su to the worst Halloween prank ever. Kids can be so cruel. The silver lining is that our trio has come closer to Fred, George, and Oliver, who are all really nice guys and fantastic big-brother figures to our heroes. _

_Fred and George in particular will be glad to get revenge on Su's behalf, I think - if you've got any suggestions on how to go about this, I'd love to hear it. _

_Please tell me what you think of the story in a review, by the way :)_


	10. Revenge!

**Author's Note:** _REVENGE AT LAST! It didn't take long to get here, but all you reviewers (I love you all) were really mad - and so you should be - on Su's behalf, and I finally got a prank idea and had to write it down before I forgot it so... this is the result. _

_I love the Weasley twins. So, so much. _

_Enjoy. _

* * *

**~ Revenge ~**

Harry and Neville refused to leave Su's bedside once Oliver had untangled himself from her and dropped her off in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey eventually gave up on trying to get them to leave and let them sleep in the beds on either side of Su.

"We'll get them for this," Neville declared heatedly. Harry was surprised – he'd never seen Neville so angry. "They've gone too far," Neville said. "Look at her!"

It was true; Su was pale and sweating, moaning in her sleep. Harry and Neville reached out to hold her hands, hoping that this small comfort would help keep the nightmares away.

"I'm not going back," Su whispered. "You can't make me. Don't leave me here, please! It wants me to go through! It wants me back!"

"What do you think she's talking about?" Harry murmured.

"I've no idea, mate," Neville replied, glum.

Oliver met the Weasley twins outside once he'd left Harry's little friend in Madam Pomfrey's care. He had what the twins called his 'game-face' on.

"Boys," he said. "Someone needs to pay. No one deserves what that girl's just gone through. We need to keep an eye on her."

"You don't need to tell us twice," George agreed.

"We'll plot," Fred added. "You get us names, we'll give you victims."

Oliver nodded. "We'll come back in the morning to check on her, okay?"

All in agreement, they went back to the Gryffindor common room to plot their revenge.

* * *

Hermione and Ron were released from Hospital Wing the next day, and had become – somehow – the best of friends. They still fought all the time, Harry noticed, but it was more along the lines of Ron wanting to copy her homework, and Hermione refusing.

It was an odd friendship, he thought, but he supposed it worked for them. Maybe battling twelve-foot trolls was just one of those things that brought people together.

Su woke up briefly in the morning – long enough for Madam Pomfrey to feed her a whole slew of potions, but not long enough to talk to her friends.

Reluctantly, Harry and Neville left her alone to go back to classes, assuring Su's friends that they had found her and that she was okay – Padma was relieved, Lisa was unreadable, and Blaise Zabini was grim.

At lunchtime, Blaise asked the house-elves to bring up a tray of sandwiches to the Hospital Wing and trotted off to go make sure that Su was okay. He was surprised to find Oliver Wood already there, but the fifth-year had had a free session, and was keeping an eye on the traumatised girl.

Oliver didn't say anything when Blaise walked in – he just nodded and continued doing his homework on Su's beside table. Blaise sat down on Su's bed, reaching out to hold her hand. He didn't interact with her much outside of Astronomy, but he liked her – she was smart, and funny, and he hoped that she was okay.

Su yawned and blinked awake, smiling when she saw Blaise sitting next to her.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice hoarse. Blaise winced.

"You okay?" He asked – which was a stupid question, of course she wasn't.

"I'll be fine," she told him, but he wasn't assured.

"Who did this to you?"

Su hesitated. Blaise gripped her hand tighter in his.

"Who did this to you?" he repeated. "Su, there are pranks and then there's torture. I've heard rumours in the common room, but I need to hear it from you – who do you think was behind this?"

Su sighed. "Probably Pansy and Millicent," she admitted. "You were the one who told me that they hated me. I didn't expect them to take it so far."

"Pansy was bragging about getting one up on you – she even had your wand," Blaise grimaced. "She said you wouldn't be bothering us for a few days. Not until you'd 'learned your lesson'. How'd you get your wand back, anyway?"

Su grinned, though she was still pale. "Summoned it," she said. "I knew the spell – I didn't think it would work – just… _accio _wand."

Blaise was impressed. "Wandless magic's supposed to be really hard."

"It is," Su agreed. "It's part of the reason I'm still here. Magical exhaustion. Sleep deprivation. Emotional trauma… the works."

"We won't let them get to you again," Oliver murmured, and Su blinked at him – she didn't know that he'd been sitting there.

"When did you get here?" She asked sleepily. Oliver grinned.

"While you were sleeping," he said. "Someone needs to keep an eye on you, kid."

"Tell me about it," Blaise murmured, thinking of all those times Su had fallen down a flight of stairs and ended up in that very bed for half an hour. "Parkinson's a menace. Bulstrode's just another lackey, but she does whatever Parkinson wants her to. Makes sense, I guess – Bulstrode's got no other friends to go to."

The tray of sandwiches suddenly appeared on Su's lap, startling her.

"Oh," Blaise smiled, picking up a ham-and-cheese. "I asked the house-elves to send these up. I didn't know if Pomfrey was feeding you up here."

"Thanks," Su picked an egg salad. Wordlessly, Oliver chose a chicken and lettuce.

They chatted aimlessly for a few minutes, including Oliver in the conversation when Su asked about O.W.L. level potions, which was also Blaise's favourite class. They were deep in discussion about blood-replenishing potions when Harry, Neville, and the Weasley twins showed up.

"Su! You're awake!" she found herself being smothered in hugs from both Harry and Neville. They were all laughing and crying at the same time.

"We were so worried," Harry told her.

"Frantic," Fred agreed.

"They were out of their minds with panic," George threw in.

"Absolutely mad," they chorused.

"We've got a plan though," Neville told her, eyes flashing angrily. "For Parkinson and Bulstrode… and maybe whoever's been stealing from you in Ravenclaw."

"Let's hear it," said Oliver, putting his homework to the side.

Fred and George exchanged glances. Their captain had told them that 'someone had to pay'. Their identical grins were enough to make Blaise promise himself never to get on the Weasley twins' bad side.

"Look at these," they pulled a handful of black marbles out of their pockets. "We decided to call them 'Private Eyes'. Originally they were supposed to be distractions for Mrs Norris, but we tweaked them a little, and added a recording effect – from another product to record the results of our genius – and _voila_! Instant spies."

"What do we do with them?" Blaise asked. The twins turned to him, confused.

"What's a slimy snake doing here?" Fred frowned.

"Dunno, mate," George peered at the mysterious addition to their little conference.

"Is he supposed to be here?" They asked Harry, who shrugged.

"Blaise is a friend," Su murmured, her voice quiet. That was good enough for the twins.

"What they do," they said, holding out the Private Eyes, "is observe and report. Like a pensieve."

"What's a pensieve?" Harry asked.

The twins exchanged glances. They weren't really sure how to explain it.

"Why don't we just show you?"

"Alright."

Fred whistled, and a spider scuttled out from behind Su's pillow, startling her and Blaise. On closer inspection, however, it wasn't a spider at all. It was one of the little black marbles, which had grown legs – and looking closely, Harry could see that some of the markings on it did resemble an eye.

"Report," ordered George.

The group gaped in amazement as the little marble unfolded itself until it held up a scream about the size of Su's pillow. Their jaws dropped further when it began to replay their entire conversation, starting from when Harry and Neville had jumped on Su's bed and smothered her with hugs. The picture was clearly from the Private Eye's point of view; it must have been sitting on the headboard of Su's bed.

"It's like a movie!" Harry exclaimed. "A spy camera!"

"A what?" Fred asked.

"We'll have to show them some spy movies later, Harry," Su grinned. She could only imagine what mischief the twins would get up to inspired by movie spy gadgets.

"So what's the plan?" Oliver asked.

"We need Parkinson to confess," Neville told him. "Get evidence of her crimes. Then we show the whole school – teachers, students, everyone."

"That's easy enough," Blaise grinned, picking up one of the Private Eyes and examining it. "I can get her to talk. Parkinson's always eager to brag about herself. How do these work? I'll bring one into the Slytherin common room and get her confession."

Fred and George frowned, but Neville was the one who agreed.

"Blaise can handle it," he said.

"Sure, but if you want one, it's four galleons," George shrugged.

"I might hold you to that," Blaise grinned.

"To activate it, you just tell it to 'observe: the person you're interested in'," Fred explained. "To get it back, you just tap the Command Button – here, you just stick it on your robes somewhere – and say, 'debrief'… or if it's nearby, you can just whistle, like we did. Then, when you want it to, you can either just say 'report', or use the Command Button to order it to report."

Blaise nodded, dropping the Private Eye into his pocket and pulling out four galleons – why he carried money on him in the school was a mystery – and handed the coins to the twins, whose eyes widened.

"Pleasure doing business with you," said Blaise. "It shouldn't be too hard for me to find your essays, either, Su. Parkinson's grades have gone up since she started stealing them, so I think she's copying them. I'm sure Daphne will be glad to get them for me: she owes me a couple of favours."

"Thanks, Blaise," Su smiled.

"The pleasure's all mine."

"All right then, men," Oliver stood up. "We've got a game plan now. Weasleys, Potter, I'll see you tomorrow at eight. Longbottom. Zabini."

He strode out of the Hospital Wing.

"I'd better go, to," Blaise grinned, leaning over to kiss Su on the cheek while she giggled. "I've got criminals to catch and all that."

"See you later, Blaise," Su waved.

"See you, Zabini," Harry added.

"Thanks for your help, Zabini," Neville nodded.

* * *

Su was quiet when all her friends were gone. The Hospital Wing was unnaturally silent. Madam Pomfrey had gone off to get lunch, and no students had been injured in her absence yet.

She worried about classes – hoped that she wasn't falling behind. She had already missed a few days. Maybe she could get Harry or Neville to sneak her their class notes.

The door creaked open, and Su turned her head to watch whomever it was who had come in. She was surprised to see Snape limping through the doorway towards her, his arms full of phials and jars and bottles.

"Hello, Professor," she murmured.

He jumped, startled. Whipping out his wand in his surprise and whirling around to point it at Su's face.

_Must be leftover paranoia from the war_, she thought idly. The potions that Madam Pomfrey had fed her made her feel floaty and lightheaded. It wasn't a bad feeling.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Su smiled serenely.

"I'm sure," he sneered, looking rather off-put by her mild mood. "What are you doing here, Miss Li? Skipping classes? Clearly, your laziness knows no bounds."

"Oh no," Su shook her head. She was feeling a little dizzy. "I'm emotionally traumatized from being locked in a freezing cold broom shed with a boggart."

Snape blinked. Surely not. The girl was lying.

But Su was nodding to herself, no longer really talking to her professor. "That's what Madam Pomfrey said. She said I was beside myself!" She looked around. "But there's only one of me! How can I be beside myself?" She giggled.

Snape felt a little ill.

"The boggart kept trying to eat me, so I haven't had much sleep," Su went on. Snape paled a little more. "Mmmm – at first I thought that I was in a room with Voldemort! Ha! He's not back yet though. It was only a boggart. I hope he doesn't come back. That would be unfortunate – what mum would call 'a bad happening'."

"Unfortunate," Snape repeated, quite at a loss for words.

Even the Dark Lord had never locked anyone in a room with a boggart – though, he supposed – perhaps the Dark Lord had simply never thought of it. He resolved never to tell Voldemort, should they ever cross paths again.

"Magical exhaustion," Su ticked off her fingers. "Because I had to summon my wand, because Pansy stole it when she put me in the broom shed. It took hours – it must've been trying to get through the castle. It didn't unlock the door though – locking charms were too strong for _alohomora. _Funny. The third-floor corridor can be opened by any first year that knows a simple unlocking charm, but not the Quidditch shed. 'No place safer than Hogwarts' indeed." She snorted.

Snape was so confused he didn't even think to ask when she'd gone to the third-floor corridor. Pansy? Pansy Parkinson? Maybe Potter's story wasn't such a tall tale after all.

"Professor," she was looking at him again, though her eyes were unfocused and clouded. She had been given an over-strong Calming Draught, he thought. The babbling and numbed emotions were a side effect, clearly. "Professor?"

"Yes, Miss Li?" He replied, with some difficulty.

"Do you hate me, sir? Because I haven't been doing my homework? I _have_ been doing my homework, you know. But someone keeps stealing it. It was quite rude of them, actually, now that I think of it. I worked very hard on those essays. Potions – my favourite class – like math! There's an answer that you're working towards, and rules to follow… and if you follow all the steps correctly, you get it right!"

_She's completely out of it,_ Snape thought.

"Professor?" She asked again.

He sighed, but she went on, still.

"Do you hate Harry, sir?" Snape stilled, and looked at her. Her eyes were still unfocused, but not quite as clouded as they had been. "Why, sir? Harry's nice. He hasn't done anything to you. He likes Potions, too!" She grew quiet. "Harry needs a friend, sir. Bad things are happening. Voldemort's coming back – or trying to – and he wants to kill Harry, but I don't know why. No one's looking out for Harry. He's all by himself. Locked in the cupboard under the stairs and starving… that's a terrible childhood for anyone. You'll look after him, won't you, sir? You're one of the Good Guys, aren't you? Mum always told me you were. Even if you aren't _nice_, you're still _good_, right?"

Snape could only think of one way to shut her up – to make the questions stop. The things that she said… they were starting to scare him. It was like she saw things in him that he had buried in the core of him years ago.

"Here," he said, pulling a Dreamless Sleep Potion out of the collection of phials and jars he had brought up to replenish Poppy's stores. "Drink this."

Carefully, he held her head and tilted the potion down her throat.

She blinked up at him, and he was drowning in those starry black eyes of hers – she smiled, as if she knew all the answers, and he was uncomfortably reminded of Albus Dumbledore, for some unfathomable reason.

"Good night, Professor," she murmured, as she nodded off to sleep.

Snape backed away, hurrying to put all his potions and balms in order so that he could get back to his offices as soon as possible.

He needed a drink. A strong one.

* * *

"Will you be better by Saturday?" Harry asked, when he and Neville came by for dinner. "It's my first Quidditch match, you know. Gryffindor versus Slytherin."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Su grinned. "Neville – you and I had better learn some hexes. We won't let those snakes cheat their way to a win!"

"Absolutely," Neville grinned. "I wouldn't mind showing Pansy the proper way to jelly-legs jinx someone. A Long-Nose charm would fix her looks, too!"

Harry and Su laughed at the mental image, until Neville turned the conversation to a slightly more serious topic.

"Blaise is going to get Pansy's confession tonight," he told them. "Daphne Greengrass already has your stolen essays: apparently Parkinson was keeping them in a drawer. She's not very bright, is she?"

"No," Su grinned. "She's not. Maybe she's part troll?"

Neville laughed, but Harry was thoughtful.

"That reminds me," he said. "Neville and I think Quirrell's been acting suspicious. I don't know if you've heard, but on Halloween a troll got out into the dungeons. Quirrell came running into the Great Hall to tell us all."

"Is that why Hermione and Ron were in Hospital Wing?" Su asked.

The boys nodded.

"But I was wondering," Harry continued, "why wasn't Quirrell with us in the Great Hall for the Halloween feast? Why was he wandering around the dungeons in the first place, where he just happened to bump into a troll?"

"Why didn't he defeat the troll?" Neville added. "I mean, he's our Defence teacher, isn't he? And he said that he'd fought trolls before, so why not this one?"

"That is suspicious," Su frowned. "I think we should keep an eye on him… but let's not get too close. We don't want him to know that we suspect him."

Harry was quiet. He wondered if he should tell them about his scar…

"Harry?" Neville asked. "Are you alright? You look worried."

"I was just thinking…" he looked at his friends – his very first friends. Surely he could tell them anything. "I was just thinking: Neville, do you remember the first day, when my scar hurt when I looked at Snape?"

"I thought you just had a headache," Neville frowned.

"Well, it sort of _was_ a headache," Harry admitted. "Anyway – I thought that my scar hurt when I looked at Snape, but Quirrell was sitting right next to him. And when Quirrell ran into the Great Hall to tell Dumbledore about the troll, my scar hurt a bit then, too! So… maybe my scar's telling me that he's a bad guy?"

"I dunno, Harry," Neville frowned. "It sounds a bit farfetched."

"Maybe," Su agreed. "But we can definitely look into it. Harry – you said you were getting headaches in Defence, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I thought it was all the garlic."

"Well, maybe you could try and see if it's just headaches, or if it's your scar reacting to Quirrell, then we might have a bit more definite evidence for the theory."

"What will we do if Quirrell _is_ getting a reaction from Harry's scar? What does it mean? I mean, curse scars have always been a bit odd, but no one really knows how they work. Maybe your scar just gets an allergic reaction to garlic – or purple."

"Even if Harry's scar isn't reacting to Quirrell," said Su, "we can still keep an eye on him. Neville's right. Why should a Defence teacher who's supposed to have experience with trolls in particular, run away from the troll instead of defeating it? I mean, two first years and a prefect did it – and they're just kids."

"So we're all agreed?" Harry looked around. "We keep an eye on Quirrell?"

"Agreed," Su nodded.

"Agreed," Neville nodded too.

* * *

In the beginning, Pansy Parkinson had chosen Su Li as a target because the little mudblood had insulted both herself and her beloved Draco. As time went on she began to pick on Li because it was easy – she didn't fight back, only nursed her wounds and cried in the corner.

That Lisa Turpin was useful, too, stealing Li's essays. Copying the essays had thrown her grades into an all-time high, which was just perfect for Pansy. Two birds, one spell, wasn't that what they always said?

However, the other day when she'd snuck down to the Quidditch pitch to let the little bint out of the shed, she'd discovered that someone had already been there… and taken Li with them.

There was no way, of course, that anyone could no for sure that it had been Pansy who'd done it – unless one of the Slytherins tattled… but that was the thing about Slytherin. No one ever tattled – it was against the unwritten code.

_Well_, Pansy thought to herself. _No one ever tattled publicly. Anonymous notes, however…_ _Daphne's been rather uppity lately – I'm sure a letter to her father would sort out that arrogant attitude!_

Still, Li's early escape had Pansy feeling oddly uneasy… even more so when she discovered that the mudblood's wand was missing as well. She'd thrown it out into the middle of the Black Lake, tied to a rock that floated just outside her bedroom window, where she could gloat over it whenever she wanted to.

When she had discovered Li had been rescued and come down to her room to sulk, she noticed that the strings holding the wand had been loosened. Somehow the mudblood bitch was behind it, Pansy was sure.

_Li always gets whatever she wants_, Pansy sneered. _She gets stupid Harry Potter, and stupid Blaise Zabini, and stupid good grades, and stupid friends, and stupid pretty hair… stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Blaise Zabini… Pansy peered at him, eating a little ways down the breakfast table. He had approached her the other night, asking about the incident with Li and the broom shed – claiming he'd heard it from a panicked Potter.

She'd bragged, of course, but now… she squinted at him, though Blaise ignored her. He was always a little bit aloof, holding himself a little separate from all his classmates, Slytherins and non-Slytherins alike. Oh, he joked, and made idle conversation, but Pansy had noticed how he tended to keep himself apart, to wander into quiet corners away from all of his classmates.

Sometimes, though… sometimes he went out of his way to talk to Li. They were partners in Astronomy, Pansy knew, and in Herbology, sometimes, too.

There was something suspicious about how friendly he'd been last night… thinking back, Pansy could remember him smirking the whole time she'd been gloating. He'd had an air of smug superiority and… triumph?

Something was up. Well, whatever it was, she'd figure it out.

Nodding to herself, Pansy took a deep swig of her pumpkin juice and stood up… but wait. Why was everyone staring at her? Why were people _laughing _at her? No one dared to laugh at Pansy Parkinson!

She threw a hex at Tracey Davis, who erupted with boils, and ran wailing out of the Great Hall soon after.

"Stop laughing at me!" Pansy shrieked, rooting around in her bag for a mirror. There must have been something on her face. Millie, beside her, was turning an odd shade of orange, while her hair turned a hideous green – the colours together clashed horribly.

Pansy brought her hand up, with the mirror in it, and flinched when she realised her skin was red with yellow spots. _Gryffindor red_. It was awful!

Her hair – rather than just changing colours – had somehow transfigured into a nest of snakes! Snakes! On her head!

Pansy screamed. "My hair! My hair! Who did this? WHO DID THIS?"

At this point most of the Slytherin table was doubled over in laughter, as were the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws who had looked over to see what all the commotion was about. The Hufflepuffs hadn't noticed yet.

Blaise grinned, and tapped his chest, saying: "Report!"

Pansy's day got even worse.

_"She deserved it," _Pansy heard herself say. She'd recognise her own voice anywhere. _"Filthy mudblood. Always prancing around like she's better than everyone else."_

_"What did you do to her?" _That voice was Blaise's. Pansy looked around for the source of the sounds and found, to her horror, some kind of massive projection of her own face, up on the wall behind the Slytherin table.

_"I only taught her a lesson," _Pansy cackled, leaving her real-time counterpart aghast. Was her cackle really that high-pitched? She'd have to work on that.

_"Pansy Parkinson," _Blaise said. Hang on – Pansy frowned – she remembered this conversation – she'd wondered, last night, why Blaise had used her full name. Odd. _"What did you do to Su Li?"_

_"You really want to know? Okay, I'll tell you," _Pansy had to get out of here. Everyone was looking at her – or the projection of her – whatever it was. She tried to tiptoe away, but instead, she fell on her face.

She screeched and looked down at her feet – someone had transfigured her shoes into… rubber flippers? She scrambled to her feet and tried to run away, but found that, in the flippers, it was almost impossible unless she was to awkwardly kick up her knees and escape flat-footed.

At this point she was half-blue with green spots, and half pink with purple stripes, she couldn't look any more ridiculous if she tried, so Pansy picked up her feet and ran out of the hall, the howling laughter of all the other students echoing behind her.

_"Millie and I locked her in the broom shed behind the Quidditch pitch! Flint said it was out of order until they got the boggart out of it so I knew no one would come by for a while – can you imagine a better Halloween prank? You should have heard her screaming – I think she wet herself!"_ Projection-Pansy continued to cackle. The other students, however, had quieted and become more serious.

Some of the younger students, or the muggle-borns, or the stupid, didn't really understand what it meant to lock someone in a room with a boggart, however, and continued laughing until they realised that no one else was.

_"I took her wand, too, so that she'd really learn her lesson," _Pansy went on. All of the students paled at that – stealing a wizard's wand… it just wasn't something people did. _"And she just whimpered!" _

Projection-Pansy pouted fakely, and recited in a dramatic falsetto: _"'Please! Please someone save me! Help I'm a damsel in distress! I'm locked in a room with a curtain!'_"

Pansy paused, and frowned.

_"Why on earth is Li afraid of curtains? She's so weird…" _

The projection faded, but it had done its damage. Half the teachers were purple with rage, including – surprisingly – Professor Snape. In his case, though, no one was sure if he was angry on Su Li's behalf, or on Parkinson's.

Millicent Bulstrode had swelled up by a balloon halfway to the door and was now floating above the heads of the other students, her face flashing orange and pink and green. She was also, occasionally, belching bubbles that looked like elephants.

Flitwick decided that she could stay there until they found Parkinson – at least they wouldn't lose her, floating up by the ceiling, she was unlikely to leave the Great Hall any time soon. He glanced over at Dumbledore, who had, last night, been told that Miss Li had been located, but not the full circumstances of her situation. No one had known.

Dumbledore himself had been deeply troubled by the revelations given by the memory of Miss Parkinson's confession – that really was a very odd pensieve. He hoped to find the perpetrator of this particular prank and ask how they had organised it.

When told by Poppy Pomfrey that Miss Li had been found in one of the old broom sheds, he had assumed that perhaps she had been playing hide and seek and accidentally locked herself into one of the sheds that only the Quidditch captains could open, using their specially spelled keys.

To hear that Miss Li had been subjected to such a hideous torture as being locked in a room with one's worst fears, for hours – days – on end with no wand to help her even hope of escape… He would have to discuss Miss Parkinson's behaviour with Severus. It appeared that they had a sociopath on their hands, and Miss Parkinson would have to be dealt with accordingly.

He watched as Professor McGonagall cleared out the Great Hall, demanding that the students continue on with their classes and assuring them that the situation was being dealt with. Ah… Minerva _was_ marvellously capable, wasn't she?

_A curtain?_ Dumbledore mused, as he stood and made his way out of the Great Hall. He found himself treading the familiar path that would take him to the Hospital Wing. _Why on earth is the girl afraid of curtains? Would it be rude of me to ask…?_

Running out of the Great Hall, Harry, Neville, and the Weasley twins offered high-fives all around. They waved to Oliver as he rushed by – his first class that morning was Potions, and he expected that Snape would be in a right foul mood for it.

"The swimming flippers were genius!" Harry roared with laughter, remembering the look on Parkinson's face when she'd stumbled over the awkward footwear. He remembered one time Dudley had made him wear the things and then played 'Harry Hunting' with his friends… it had been difficult to run in them, and he'd tripped over more often than not, but if he stopped to try and take them off, Dudley and Co. Would catch him and beat him up…

Those thoughts weren't very cheerful – Harry reminded himself of Pansy's snake-hair again, and the way she'd changed colours every few seconds. God, that was hilarious.

The Weasley twins had also set up a bunch of Private Eyes around the Hall, and Blaise had had one on his shoulder to get Pansy's full reaction. They'd show Su the footage later; sure that it would cheer her up.

For now, however, Harry and Neville had Transfiguration, and Professor McGonagall did _not_ like to be kept waiting.

* * *

**A/N: **_Does anyone else know how ridiculously hard it is to walk, let alone run, in swimming flippers? I'm pretty sure I have scars on my knees from tripping onto the concrete in those things. Flippers are not for land-lubbers. _

_Thank you all for reading up to this point: I'd love to hear what you think about it so far, or any ideas you have for what might happen in future chapters!_

_Next up: Quidditch! And maybe Christmas! I don't know if they're big enough/small enough to fit into the same chapter or be split up. I suppose only time will tell. _


	11. Quidditch and Attempted Murder

**Author's Note:** _So... now that I've got the little horror-show out of the way, and explored some of the characters, here comes the Plot again!_

_Quidditch! Mysteries! Quirrell being a jerk! Also - why, in canon, did no one investigate the attempted murder of an eleven-year-old very thoroughly? Even putting aside the fact that Harry is a celebrity and hero of the wizarding world, someone had just tried to kill a _child_! Wizards are so strange._

* * *

**~ Quidditch and Attempted Murder ~**

Su wasn't sure whom she was expecting to appear, when the doors to the Hospital Wing opened and she heard the tell tale rustling of robes.

Certainly not Albus Dumbledore.

She supposed that, on some level, she still didn't really believe that she was _here_, in this story. Dumbledore paid attention to Harry – because he was the Boy-Who-Lived and all that – and he paid attention to Ron Weasley, because he was Harry's best friend, and to Hermione Granger, because she was a genius and also Harry's best friend.

_Hey,_ she thought. _I'm Harry's best friend now. Huh. Go figure_.

"Miss Li," Dumbledore smiled at her, pulling a bag out of his pocket. "Sherbet Lemon?"

"Sure." She took the proffered sweet and sat back in her bed, eyeing him warily. She respected Dumbledore, sure. He was a powerful man. However, since arriving at Hogwarts, she had been thinking about how _active_ Dumbledore had been over the course of the series and her answer was: not very.

He had a lot of responsibilities, being Headmaster of Hogwarts, and Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock and all those other titles. He was busy. That meant – to her mind – that he had less time for each responsibility. He was spread out thin. Which would explain why he never did much about that basilisk in Harry's second year, or the dementors in the third book, or the conspiracy theory in the fourth…

She respected Dumbledore, yes. But she didn't exactly trust him with her safety.

"What's this about?" She asked – straight to the point.

"I would like to ask you… and I'm sorry if this upsets you, Miss Li… but I would like to ask you about the circumstances that brought you to the Hospital Wing."

"You mean, the boggart and the broom shed?" Su asked, incredulous.

Dumbledore nodded.

"Well… Harry's the Gryffindor Seeker now, right?" Dumbledore nodded again. "So Neville and I went to watch his practice on Halloween night. Harry finished up early and he and Neville went to the feast, but I've never seen a Quidditch match before, and I wanted to see how the rest of the team trained. Next thing I know – someone's hit me over the head and I'm unconscious."

Dumbledore looked troubled, but Su went on.

"I woke up in the broom shed – it was dark, and cold. There was a boggart, and it kept trying to eat me. I didn't know that boggarts were carnivorous. I was in there for a while. I don't know how long. Harry said it was a couple of days? Then he and the twins and Neville and Oliver Wood found me and rescued me."

"I see," Dumbledore ate another Sherbet Lemon. "Do you know who put you in the broom shed?"

"Probably Pansy Parkinson," Su told him. "She doesn't like me. Keeps pushing me down the stairs and all that. Why? Are you going to do something about it?"

Dumbledore winced at her accusatory tone. He knew that he tended to be distracted from his duties at Hogwarts, and that the Professors struggled to keep up with all their students, but to hear it implied that he did nothing about bullies… it hurt his feelings.

"Miss Parkinson and Miss Bulstrode shall be put on academic probation for the rest of the school year," Dumbledore told her. "They have crossed a line, in what they did to you… I can only hope that you forgive an old man his failures."

Su blinked at him.

"What are you talking about?" She asked. "It's not like _you_ put me in the broom shed."

"I was the one who was searching for you, Miss Li," Dumbledore told her. "I scoured the castle… sent out the portraits to seek you out… but I could not find you. For that, I am sorry."

"Well," what was she supposed to say? "I forgive you. I guess."

Dumbledore beamed. "Thank you, Miss Li. May I award Ravenclaw twenty points for your bravery and steadfastness?"

"If you want to," Su shrugged. "Those are Gryffindor traits, though. What about keeping my common sense in a time of stress and fear?"

"If you wish," Dumbledore smiled enigmatically, eyes twinkling. "If I may ask… if you would satisfy an old man's curiosity… what form did your boggart take?"

Su regarded him coolly for a moment, wondering what he was playing at. Did he know about the Veil? Did he know about the Department of Mysteries? She was sure that Dumbledore had spies and contacts and informants in the Ministry but… it was better to be safe than sorry, she thought. And some things were not for anyone to know.

"My corpse," she told him. "I was afraid that no one would ever find me – that I would die alone and forgotten. That's what the boggart showed me."

"I'm so sorry," sighed Dumbledore, sincere. "I wish you a swift recovery, Miss Li. After all – our school year has only just begun!"

"Yes, sir. Goodbye, sir." Su watched as Dumbledore stood up and glided out of the Hospital Wing. _He's really weird_, she decided.

* * *

Su was released two days later, though she still struggled a bit with some spells due to her magical exhaustion. Madam Pomfrey assured her that she would grow stronger with time, but there was nothing that she could do about it except wait.

The footage of Pansy and Millicent's humiliation was very cheering, and Su laughed until she cried at Pansy tripping over the swimming flippers.

When it was revealed – through Pansy Parkinson's confession – that Lisa Turpin had been paid to steal Su's homework, she cried for the rest of the afternoon in the girl's bathrooms, comforted by Padma and Parvati Patil, Hermione Granger, and Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones, who had been passing the girl's bathroom when they heard her sobbing. She had expected an accomplice in Ravenclaw, but she had not thought that it would be someone that she had considered to be her friend.

"Are you okay, Su?" Neville asked, when she came to dinner on Friday night.

"I will be," she sighed, taking a deep breath. She was sitting at the Gryffindor table, next to Harry and Oliver Wood, and opposite Neville and the Weasley twins. Following the Broom Shed Incident, Oliver and the twins had become rather protective of her, almost like the older brothers she'd never had. It was nice.

"Will Madam Pomfrey let you come to the game tomorrow?" Harry asked.

"I think so," Su nodded. "I'm healthy now, so there's not really much she can do to stop me. Besides, Neville and I have to keep an eye on the Slytherins. We're prepared to hex if any of them try anything."

"I've learned the bat-bogey hex," Neville grinned. "And the Long-Nose charm, in case Parkinson shows her face around us!"

"We'll make a prankster of you yet, my friend!" Laughed George, ruffling Neville's hair.

"Don't worry about the game, Harry," Su smiled at him. "You'll be great."

Harry nodded, but he wasn't so sure. Somehow, despite Wood's insistence that his position as Seeker be kept secret, the truth had still leaked out. Harry wasn't at all assured by his housemates' assurances that they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress in case he fell.

"Get some sleep, Harry," Neville moaned later that night. "Please. You're making _me_ feel nervous, and I _know_ you'll be great. So just shut up and sleep."

"Sorry, Nev," Harry murmured, settling in his bed. He still couldn't sleep, though, and he stared at the ceiling as he contemplated tomorrow's match. The Slytherins played rough, he'd heard, and according to Seamus Finnegan, Seekers were often the most beat up players in the game, just because so much rested on them.

He rolled over, eyeing Dean Thomas's West Ham poster. He missed playing football – just grass, and running, the satisfaction of kicking the ball into the net… before Hogwarts, football had been the closest thing to flying he had ever known.

Maybe he could set up a game with Dean sometime…

He succumbed to sleep, dreaming of playing soccer with Dean Thomas against an opposition made out of broomsticks and steaks. He wasn't sure how that worked…

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and cold. The Great Hall was filled with the scents of bacon and sausages, and it was enough to turn Harry's stomach.

"You've got to eat _something_," Neville frowned at Harry's empty plate. "Even if it's just a little. To keep your strength up."

"I don't want to eat anything," Harry groaned.

"Just a bit of toast?"

Harry shook his head, but eventually the combined efforts of all his classmates and some threats from the Weasley twins convinced him to eat two pieces of toast and to drink his pumpkin juice.

By eleven o'clock Harry was in the Gryffindor locker room, and the almost the whole school was seated out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch.

Su and Neville joined Ron, Hermione, Seamus, and Dean up in one of the top rows of the Gryffindor section. Harry had leant Su his Gryffindor scarf for the occasion, so that she'd blend in with the crowd.

As a surprise for Harry, Neville and Ron had gotten one of the sheets ruined by Scabbers the rat, and had had Dean Thomas – who was a bit of an artist – paint the words 'Victory to Potter' on it, accompanied by a large Gryffindor lion. Hermione had charmed the paint to change colours, and Su had animated the lion to roar whenever Gryffindor scored.

Harry, in the locker room, was feeling rather ill. He changed into his scarlet Quidditch robes on autopilot, only snapping out of it when Alicia Spinnet told him he'd buckled his pads on wrong, and then helped him fix the problem.

Soon they were gathered at the benches, Oliver standing before them.

"Okay, men," he said.

"And women," added Chaser Angelina Johnson.

"And women," Oliver amended. "This is it."

"The big one," said Fred.

"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred explained to Harry, "we were on the team last year. Doesn't really change though – gist of it is that we're awesome."

"Shut up, you two," Wood glared at them. They quieted. "Okay, men – and women – you know what to do. This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it. I can feel it in my bones."

He cut off when a buzzer echoed around the stands, setting off their schoolmates cheering.

"Right," said Oliver, looking as nervous as Harry felt. "It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Harry felt like he might throw up, as he walked out into the pitch. He cheered up, however, when he spotted his friends in the stands – even if Su did look a little pale.

Madam Hooch waited in the middle of the field next to the box of Quidditch balls.

"Now, I want a nice, clean game from all of you," she said, once both teams had gathered around her. Harry noticed her glaring at the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, in particular. Flint saw him looking and winked at him. Harry felt ill again.

He looked around and spotted the 'Victory to Potter' banner fluttering in the wind, and grinned. _I'm brave_, he thought. _I can do this. I can._

They mounted their brooms and floated up into the air, waiting for the signal

Madam Hooch released the snitch and the bludgers, then tossed the quaffle into the air and blew her whistle. The game was on.

"And the quaffle is taken immediately by Gryffindor's Angelina Johnson – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too–"

"Jordan!"

"Sorry, Professor."

Professor McGonagall glared at the dreadlocked Lee Jordan, but he continued.

"Look at her go!" Jordan went on. "She passes to Alicia Spinnet – back to Johnson – she shoots she – No! The Slytherins have taken the quaffle! Captain Marcus Flint flies right down the pitch, ducks Spinnet, dodges Katie Bell – he's unstoppable! He's going to sc– oh! Saved, by Keeper Oliver Wood! Good man, Oliver Wood. Bell takes the quaffle, dives under Flint – ooh! That's got to hurt! Flint takes a bludger to the gut and Bell shoots up the field – nope! Chaser Adrian Pucey knocks her off course, taking the quaffle with him! Bludgered again! Beater Weasley – Fred, George, whoever – has done it again! Johnson's back in possession – dodges a speeding bludger – the goal posts are straight ahead – come on, now, Johnson – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with moans and groans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along," a familiar voice mumbled.

"Hagrid!"

The friendly half-giant was, indeed, squeezing up in the row just in front of the gaggle of first year Gryffindors (and one Ravenclaw). He waved cheerfully when he spotted Neville and Su, sitting behind him.

"Couldn't miss Harry's first game," he said. "Hullo, Su. Feeling better?"

"Much," Su grinned.

"Has anyone seen the snitch yet?" Hagrid asked.

"Nope," that was Ron Weasley. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Keeping outta trouble, though," Hagrid snorted. "Tha's somethin'."

Way above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan for his first match.

_"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the snitch,"_ Wood had said. _"We don't want you getting targeted before you have to be." _

The game was intense, Harry could tell, and though the Slytherins were rough, they hadn't cheated… yet. Harry kept half an ear on Jordan's commentary, while scanning the pitch for any unusual flashes.

He thought it should be illegal to wear jewellery to a Quidditch game – it was making his job so much harder than it needed to be.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Pucey ducks to bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell – he's speeding towards the – wait a moment – was that the snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the quaffle, snatching at the air next to his left ear where the snitch had just flown past.

_My turn_, Harry thought, all nervousness shoved aside as he angled his broom downwards and dived through the air. All he could feel was the wind in his hair and the thrill of the chase – also, thank god for Su and her anti-fog charms on his glasses.

Slytherin Seeker Terrance Higgs was on his left, and they both hurdled towards the snitch. All other players seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in mid air to watch. Well, until Oliver got Katie Bell's attention and she grabbed up the quaffle, speeding towards the Slytherin hoops.

Harry was nearly there – so close! Higgs was falling behind, but the snitch was right there, just a few feet away…

WHAM! Harry collided with Marcus Flint's outstretched arm, his broom spinning off course with him clinging on for dear life.

"FOUL!" Screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch exchanged a few angry words with Flint, but the damaged had been done. In all the confusion, the snitch had disappeared from sight.

In the stands, Dean Thomas was on his feet, shouting his outrage.

"Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" Ron asked.

"Red card," Dean explained, furious, "is a football thing. You get shown the red card and you're out of the game."

"But this isn't football," Ron reminded him.

"No kidding," Dean scowled at Flint, who didn't fly fast enough to stop Bell from scoring.

There was a bit of heated commentary from Jordan, a bit of scolding from Professor McGonagall, a bit of scoring from the Gryffindor Chasers, and the game went on.

The game had been going for about half an hour when it happened.

Harry dodged another bludger, and then again when it boomeranged back towards his head. As he was righting himself his broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall, but he gripped the broom tightly with his hands and knees and managed to stay on.

He'd never experienced anything like that before, even in practice.

It happened again – it was as if his broom was trying to buck him off. But _Nimbus 2000s'_ were not supposed to buck their riders off. They were supposed to be safe.

Harry tried to turn back towards the goalposts, with half a mind to ask Wood to call time out – and then he realised that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it, couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and, every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.

Lee was still commentating. Slytherin scored. No one seemed to have noticed Harry or his strangely malfunctioning broom. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

Harry wasn't afraid of heights – but he was certainly aware of the fatality of falling from one. He resolved not to look at the ground, concentrating on staying on his broom.

Su, in the stands, was alternating between watching the match and keeping an eye on Harry. She didn't expect Quirrell to change tactics just because Harry's friends were herself and Neville rather than Ron and Hermione.

She gasped when she saw Harry's broom bucking in in the air, and shoved her binoculars at Neville, pointing at Harry up in the sky.

"What's going on?" Neville asked.

"Someone's jinxing the broom!" Su grabbed the binoculars off Neville and squinted through them at Quirrell, whose eyes weren't straying from Harry's broom. Tilting the binoculars up, Su was relieved to see Snape muttering under his breath as well.

"What do you see?" Neville snatched at the binoculars, pointing them at the teacher's stands as well. Other people were starting to notice Harry and his problem at this point as well. There was a collective gasp as the _Nimbus_ gave a wild jerk, throwing Harry off it. He was now dangling from the broom with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus asked.

"Can't have," Hagrid grunted. "Can't nothing interfere with any o' the new broomsticks 'cept powerful Dark magic – no kid could do that to a _Nimbus 2000_."

"It's Quirrell," Su whispered to Neville. "I'm going to hex him – break his concentration. You and the others prepare to _Wingardium Leviosa_ Harry to safety if he falls. Sound like a plan?"

Neville nodded, and Su dashed off to a better vantage point to hex Quirrell.

She lined herself up – he was about twenty feet away – and whispered the incantation for the bat-bogey hex. She turned her attention away when he doubled over, pretending to have nothing to do with it.

Quirrell screeched in pain as several bats clawed their way out of his nose. Harry's broom stopped bucking, and people began to turn their attention to Quirrell.

Su nodded to herself and ran back up to where her friends were sitting.

She didn't notice Snape narrow his eyes suspiciously at her retreating back.

Up in the air, Harry was able to climb back onto his broom. As he did so, he spied the snitch near where Flint was furiously trying to score, and Wood was expertly protecting the hoops. _Gotcha_, he thought.

He dived towards it, hand outstretched – the snitch was only a few feet away – but it veered slightly to the left just as he was about to catch it.

Harry opened his mouth to shout in protest – and choked on his words instead.

His broom dropped from the sky, and Harry fell to his knees, coughing. Something gold and fluttery fell out of his mouth and onto the ground. He picked it up.

It was the snitch! He'd won!

"I've got the snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head.

The game ended in complete confusion – but the scores were tallied, and Gryffindor had won!

"He didn't catch it – he nearly swallowed it!" Flint was still protesting twenty minutes later. It made no difference – Harry hadn't broken any rules, and Lee was loudly proclaiming the Gryffindor victory to the whole school.

Harry, Neville, and Su were invited back to Hagrid's for a strong cup of tea. They were stalled on the way for a few minutes, however.

First by Ron, Dean, and Seamus who wanted to congratulate Harry on a job well done. Then Blaise Zabini showed up and had to be comforted by Su based on the fact that Higgs was a pretty terrible Seeker, and that Slytherin should really look into replacing the git – she didn't care how influential his father was.

Eventually the trio were in Hagrid's hut, huddled by the fire and enjoying their tea.

"It was Quirrell," Neville told Harry. "Su and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick – eye contact Harry. And he was muttering under his breath."

"Rubbish," scoffed Hagrid. "Why would Quirrell do something like that?"

"We don't know," Neville admitted.

"Maybe Quirrell's working for Voldemort," Su suggested, ignoring Neville's wince and Hagrid's spluttering reaction to the name. "I mean – there are rumours that he's still alive and all, and Harry's a big name for people who were against him, so there's that."

"Maybe he's after whatever's being guarded by that three-headed dog in the third-floor corridor," Harry suggested.

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How'd you know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?" The trio turned to Hagrid in confusion (well, Su was less confused).

"Yeah – he's mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the stone."

"What stone?" asked Harry.

Su was wondering why Dumbledore trusted Hagrid so much. He clearly couldn't keep secrets very well. Loyal? Yes. Bright? No.

"Now tha's none of your business," said Hagrid, looking furious with himself. "Tha's between Professor Dumbledore, and Nicholas Flamel."

Harry opened his mouth to ask who Nicholas Flamel was, but Su cut him off.

"Who else is guarding the stone? I mean – Fluffy's great and all – but surely Dumbledore has back up plans?"

"Er, well, the teachers, really," Hagrid offered. "Main subjects. McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Sprout, Quirrell, and o' course – Dumbledore himself."

"So who's Nicholas Flamel?" Neville asked, though this question was aimed more at Su than Hagrid.

"Alrigh', kids," Hagrid hastily snatched their teacups away. "I think tha's enough for today. I shouldn't have told you tha'. Don't go diggin', now – Dumbledore's handling it."

"Okay, Hagrid," Harry said, stumbling out of the hut. "See you 'round."

"Bye Hagrid!" Su and Neville waved as the three of them made their way back up to the castle.

"Right," Harry rounded on Su when they were out of earshot. "Do you know what that was all about?"

"Well, Nicholas Flamel is an alchemist," Su said. "Most famous for creating the Philosopher's Stone. It can turn any mineral into gold – which really lowers the value of gold, in my opinion – but it's also a key ingredient in the Elixir of Life… which is a sort of immortality potion."

"You think the _Philosopher's Stone_ is _here_?" Neville squeaked. "In _Hogwarts_?"

Su shook her head. "No – you were right that night, Neville. I think it's a decoy. A trap. Probably for Voldemort. I mean; if he's not dead, he's pretty near to it – after what happened with you, Harry. Even if he is dead, I don't think Dumbledore believes that he is. Even if it's not a trap for Voldemort – it's definitely Dark Lord bait, too."

"And they keep it in a _school_?" Harry blurted, aghast.

"Hogwarts is the one place where Dumbledore is almost always on hand," Su explained, scowling. "He probably thinks he can handle it. The whole of wizarding Britain thinks the Headmaster is the bees knees – it's gotten to his head."

"I'll say," Neville looked fearfully up at the castle, where the Dark Lord Bait resided. "Hey… can we not say You-Know-Who's name? I mean… please?"

Harry and Su looked over at him, feeling a little sheepish.

"Sorry," said Harry. "Sure. What, so we just call him 'You-Know-Who'?"

"We could call him Darth Vader," Su suggested. Harry laughed.

"_No, Harry,_" he said, in his best James Earl Jones' impression. "_I am your father._"

Su burst out laughing, doubling over in mirth. Neville just looked confused, which made Harry and Su laugh even harder.

"Oh. My. Giddy Aunt," Su sighed, trying to catch her breath. "That was great, Harry."

"We have to introduce Neville to _Star Wars_," he grinned.

"Summer project."

"What are you guys talking about?" Neville asked, completely baffled.

"It's a movie," Harry explained. "I don't think you'll really understand it until you see it, but basically the 'Darth's are the Dark Lords of the future. Well, Sith Lords, anyway."

"It's decided then," Su grinned. "Henceforth, between us, You-Know-Who shall be referred to as 'Darth Volder'!"

"Agreed!" Harry grinned.

They laughed all the way back up to the castle, a bewildered Neville in tow.

* * *

**A/N: **_Quidditch! Suspicious Snape! Quirrell! More questions about canon! Hilarious nicknames for our Sith Lord - I mean - Dark Lord!_

_All hail Darth Volder! _

_LOL._

_Okay, up next, CHRISTMAS! And the Mirror of Erised. And EMOTIONS! _


	12. The Mirror of Erised

**Author's Note:** _CHRISTMAS! THE MIRROR! EMOTIONS! PRESENTS! IT'S ALL RIGHT HERE!_

_Enjoy :)_

* * *

**~ The Mirror of Erised ~**

Su was dreaming of the Death Chamber again.

The room was cold, and the Veil whispered to her, making her promises. She tried to escape but all the doors were locked. She found herself pressed up against the wall, her back to the Veil, sobbing.

"I just want to get out of here," she said.

The Girl was back – the girl with blonde hair in a blue dress. She was sitting beside Su, regarding her with serious eyes.

"Who are you?" Su asked, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Why are we here? Why do I keep having this dream?"

"The Veil wants us back," the Girl said.

"Well I don't _want_ to go back," Su retorted.

She could feel the cold rolling off the Veil in waves behind her.

"You should tell your Aunt that," the Girl said. "It's not good to keep secrets."

Su scoffed. "Yeah. Says you. I don't even know your name. You're not even real."

"I'm real," the Girl said. "I'm real."

* * *

Weird dreams and attempted murder aside, the weeks leading up to Christmas were fun and exciting. Now that they were pretty sure of what was being hidden in the third-floor corridor, the trio's curiosity was satisfied.

They distracted themselves instead with discussions of Christmas.

Harry, of course, had signed up to stay over break as soon as the sheet had gone up. He wouldn't go back to the Dursleys any sooner than he had to. Su had signed up too – ostensibly to keep Harry company, but there was something off about the way she refused to meet his eye when she said this.

Neville was going back home to spend Christmas with his gran, though he promised to write on Christmas – to share the cheer with his friends.

"I do feel sorry," drawled Draco Malfoy during one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

This comment had been directed at Ron Weasley, whom Malfoy had shifted his focus onto – with a little provocation from Harry.

Harry had felt bad, at first, but soon realised that Weasley could handle himself.

As he did now, making a scathing comment in return.

"At least I don't have to hide behind my mummy's skirts," Ron retorted. "Or behind my father. I'm my own man."

Ron declared later that the look on Malfoy's face had been worth the ten points from Gryffindor. Hermione had agreed.

Harry expected this to be the best Christmas ever. He'd be at Hogwarts, away from the Dursleys – with his best friend, too! The only thing that would make it better would be presents, but Harry didn't think those were fully necessary.

He was having the time of his life.

* * *

Su stared at the letter.

_Dear Su,_

_How have you been? How are classes? We haven't heard from you in a while – not since October. You must be busy, of course. _

_How are Harry and Neville? How about Padma, and Lisa? Have you made more friends?_

_Are you coming home for Christmas, Su? I know it must be hard for you, to be reminded of your family, but I just want you to know that Nathan and I love you. _

_We'd be really happy if you'd join us for the holidays. _

_Much love, _

_Beatrice._

If she had to tell the truth, she would admit that she was afraid. She hadn't written since the boggart-thing because she was afraid of what it had shown her. She didn't belong in this world – didn't deserve to be here. She didn't belong to the Li's, even though they had adopted her.

It was her weakness, she knew, that she never confronted her problems. She let them flow and fold around her, hoping that they would just untangle themselves. But that wasn't the way that things worked.

_Beatrice,_

_Classes have been great! I'm a top student in Potions and Charms, and I'm really enjoying the challenges of Transfiguration. History of Magic and Herbology are hard because they don't interest me as much, however. _

_Padma and Neville are doing well. Harry's on the Quidditch team, too. Seeker. They one their first match against Slytherin – Harry almost swallowed the snitch! Neville and I were really excited for him. _

_I've made friends with the Gryffindor Quidditch team, through Harry – particularly the Keeper, Oliver Wood (5th year) and the Beaters – Fred and George Weasley (3rd years). _

_Fred and George are twins, and they're very funny._

_I think I'll stay at Hogwarts for Christmas this year. I hear that it looks magnificent when it's all decorated. If it's not too much trouble, could you owl over the presents in the attached list? If there's anything wrong with the pricing, I can try and figure out something else. Just let me know._

_I'll see you soon, I promise,_

_Love, _

_Su. _

She tried not to think about what the letter _didn't_ say – which meant that she thought of very little else. She didn't want to admit to the boggart-incident, or the investigations into Quirrell, or anything about the Philosopher's Stone. She didn't know why.

There was a part of her that blamed Beatrice for taking her away from her family – that thought that maybe Beatrice's experiments with the Veil were what pulled her out of her own world and into this one.

She hated that part of herself. She should be grateful – she _was_ grateful. She'd been given an opportunity to explore _magic_, for goodness sake. To befriend a legendary character who was, really, just a really nice, really lonely boy.

If it weren't for Beatrice, Su would probably be dead.

Those thoughts were never nice to think.

* * *

Harry had confirmed – though Su wasn't surprised – that his scar hurt in Quirrell's classes. Though, oddly, only when faced by Quirrell's turban.

Neville had suggested that the turban was a Dark artefact, but Su knew the truth. She couldn't tell them, however, without telling them how she knew… and that could lead to all sorts of trouble. Would Harry ever trust her again if she told him that she only befriended him because of his fame?

What about Neville – in the books, he was basically a loser. She didn't want to have to explain that to him. Neville was amazing – he was kind, and clever, and caring… he deserved more attention than he had ever gotten in the books.

Though, Su admitted to herself, she may have been biased.

"I'll miss you," she told Neville, she and Harry were farewelling him at the train station. "I hope you like your Christmas present."

"Me too," Harry added, grinning at Su. They had combined efforts for Neville's present – they thought that their friend would be extremely happy with it.

"I'll write," Neville promised, hugging first Harry, then Su.

"We'll write, too."

Soon, the train was off, and only Harry, Su, and a handful of other students remained at Hogwarts. Among those students were the Weasleys, whose parents were going off to Romania to visit their older brother Charlie, who worked with dragons.

Su and Harry chatted to Ron – who'd been farewelling Hermione – about the dragons that his brother worked with, and what they were like.

Their conversation about how – exactly – a dragon breathed fire, when they walked into the Great Hall, which was only halfway decorated for Christmas.

"Wow," Harry breathed. Su agreed.

There were twelve towering fir trees, dusted with glittering snow, all decorated with shining ornaments, and candles, and icicles, and lots, and lots of tinsel. The walls were decorated with holly and mistletoe – which made Su laugh as they passed through the door beneath it. She kissed Harry and Ron on their cheeks, making them both blush.

"I've already got my stuff," Su said, patting her shrunken trunk in her pocket. "You lead on, Harry."

"What's she talking about?" asked Ron.

"Well, Ravenclaw tower's empty this holidays," Harry explained. "Su's all by herself. So I asked Professor McGonagall if she could bunk in the Gryffindor Common Room… just for the holidays."

"But you can't tell other houses where the Common Room is!" Ron exclaimed.

Su rolled her eyes. "Most people know, Ronald," she said. "There's a reason it's called _Gryffindor Tower_ – we just don't know the password. I'll not be able to access your common room if you don't tell me what the password is changed to when the holidays are over – no harm, no foul."

"I still don't like it," Ron grumbled, but his protests subsided.

His protests were entirely gone when Su agreed to play wizard's chess with him, and the two explained the game to Harry as they went along. The rules were, after all, no different from muggle chess, it was only that the pieces were animated and sometimes even talked back to the player.

Su thought she was okay at chess – but Ron was way better than her. At least she provided more of a challenge than Harry, although, to be fair, Harry was only a beginner.

When Percy Weasley offered to play a game with his brother, Su and Harry happily turned their attention to the fireplace, and began toasting marshmallows and muffins, and anything else they could get on a stick.

Su was studying Ancient Runes – which made Harry roll his eyes and groan (_"Holidays are for _relaxing_, Su!")_ – but he'd become much more interested when Su suggested that she might help improve Harry's eyesight with Runes.

"Part of the problem," she explained, "is that your glasses are obviously the wrong prescription, which is why you're always squinting. They're making your eyesight worse. I think Percy will know some Runes to help with that though."

They asked Percy, who was taking O.W.L. Level Runes, and he used his wand to scratch a few runes into Harry's glasses. They wouldn't fix Harry's eyesight, he explained, but it would help them to adjust to help Harry see better.

Harry hadn't seen so clearly in years.

After that, a lot of their time was spent examining Ancient Runes and their applications. Harry was surprised by how interesting they were, and Su told him that they could take the class in their third year.

Percy Weasley had approved of their enthusiasm, and had offered to lend them some of his Ancient Runes textbooks – Arithmancy too, if they were interested. Su was. Harry wasn't. Math had never been his best subject.

On Christmas Eve, Harry had said goodnight to Su, sleeping in front of the hearth in the common room, and gone up to bed looking forward to the Christmas Dinner the next day, but not expecting any presents at all.

However, when he woke early the next morning, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.

"Merry Christmas," Ron mumbled sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe and slippers.

"You too," said Harry. "Will you look at this? I've got presents!"

"What'd you expect, turnips?" Ron asked, climbing out of bed to examine his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry's.

Harry ran down to the Common Room, where Su was still sleeping. There was a pile of presents next to the couch she was sleeping on, too.

"Su! Su! I've got presents!" He shouted. Su moaned and rubbed her face. She was looking much less pristine half-asleep than she usually did when fully awake. Harry thought the owlish way she blinked at up with her wide black eyes and messy hair was incredibly endearing – although perhaps her messy hair just reminded him of his own.

"Of course you've got presents, Kwon," she mumbled. "It's Christmas. Now go away, I'm sleeping."

Harry was confused. "I'm not Kwon," he said. "I'm Harry."

Su was wide-awake all of a sudden, throwing her blankets off – and onto Harry. By the time he had untangled himself, her expression was full of excitement. She gathered up her own pile of presents in a blanket and lead the way back up to his dorm.

For a moment, however, Harry had thought that she'd looked panicked, and sad.

"Harry, come and open your presents!" Su shouted.

He walked into his dorm. She was already sitting on his bed, her own pile of presents in a little pyramid at the end of his bed. She'd thrown the blanket around her shoulders, and was grinning impishly at him.

"Well," she nodded at his pile of presents. "Go own."

The first parcel was from Hagrid. When he unwrapped it, Harry found a wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it, it sounded a bit like an owl.

"Pretty," Su said.

"Yeah, nice," Ron agreed, already stuffing his face with the chocolate he'd received.

Su opened one of her presents next – it contained some chocolate frogs from Padma.

Harry's next parcel was very small, and contained a note:

_We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. _

_From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia_.

Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

"Huh," said Harry.

"Unpleasant," sniffed Su.

"Weird," gasped Ron, fascinated by the fifty pence. "What a shape! Is this money?"

"You can keep it," said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. "Christmas present from me. Hagrid, and my aunt and uncle… so who sent these?" He peered at the rest of the pile.

"I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mum. I told her you didn't expect any presents – you said so at dinner one time – and… well. I think she's made you a Weasley jumper."

Harry tore open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green, as well as a large box of homemade fudge.

"Every year she makes us a jumper," said Ron, unwrapping his own and sighing. "Mine's always maroon."

"That's really nice of her," said Harry, trying some of the fudge. "If you don't like maroon," he added, "you could always ask for a different colour. Black, maybe?"

"I suppose." Ron nodded.

"Look!" Exclaimed Su. "I've got one too!" Her jumper was a bright, cerulean blue. She'd also received a matching beanie.

"That would be our doing," Fred and George bounded into the room, also wearing blue sweaters – though their blue was a bit darker than Su's. One had a large yellow F on it, and the other a G. Su was surprised that the letters actually matched the twins – over the past few weeks of friendship she'd been slowly learning to tell them apart.

"Told mum about the boggart-incident," George explained. "I'm surprised she didn't send a howler to Dumbledore… or maybe she did, but we didn't hear it."

"She's a bleeding heart, really," Fred nodded. "Look, Harry's got one too!"

"His is better than ours," George squinted at it. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" Fred demanded. "Come on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned half-heartedly as he pulled it over his head.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid – we know we're called Gred and Forge!"

"What's all this noise?"

Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving – especially when he noticed Su sitting in the boy's dormitory. He had clearly gotten at least partially through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy jumper over his arm, which Fred seized with great gusto.

"P for prefect!" he shouted. "Get it on, Percy, come on. We're all wearing ours – even Harry and Su have theirs on!"

"I – don't – want–" protested Percy, as the twins forced the jumper over his head, knocking his glasses askew.

"Nonsense," grinned the twins. "Let's go open the rest of your presents, then you can sit with us for breakfast! Christmas is, after all, the time for family!"

They marched Percy out of the dorm, followed by Ron.

Su and Harry exchanged glances, before going back to their presents.

As well as the Weasley jumper and fudge, Harry had received some Zonko's Joke products from the twins – though he had no idea what to do with them – a broom polishing kit from Oliver, some chocolate frogs and a book on potions from Neville, and a book of jinxes, hexes, and mild curses from Su.

Su had received a potions book from Harry, and a charms book from Neville. There was a book about broom making from Oliver, _the Book of Paranoia_ from Blaise (which contained all sorts of spying charms, locking charms, wards, and defences spells), her Weasley jumper and beanie, some Zonko's joke products from the twins, and some chocolate frogs from Padma, Hermione, and Dean Thomas.

Harry and Su had combined efforts on their present for Neville, contributing five galleons each, as well as a note that read:

_Merry Christmas, Neville!_

_For your present, Harry and I have given you ten galleons – that should be enough for you to get yourself a proper wand! One that suits you! I don't care if you have to sneak out of the house and take the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley – we expect you'll be properly equipped next time we see you!_

_Much love, _

_Harry and Su_

They were actually pretty proud of themselves for that.

Su had also given new quills and some Chocolate Frogs to Dean, Padma, and Hermione, and given Blaise a book on Potions. For Oliver, she had gotten a book about Puddlemere United, and for the twins she had gotten Nathan to buy a book on muggle magician's tricks and sleight of hand.

The last present had been Harry's.

Su watched him as he picked it up – there was no name on the wrapping except for his. It was very light. When he unwrapped it, something fluid and silvery grey went slithering to the floor, where it gleamed in the morning sunlight.

"Wow," Su breathed. "It's beautiful."

"What is it?" Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch – like woven water or something.

"It's a cloak, Harry," Su rolled her eyes, though she smiled. "I think… I think it's an invisibility cloak!"

Harry shrugged and threw it around his shoulders. Su's grin widened.

"What?" He looked down at his feet… but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, surprised. His head was floating in mid air, while his body was completely invisible.

"There's a note," Su said, handing it to him.

Harry took it. It was written in narrow, loopy writing that he had never seen before.

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. _

_Use it well._

_A very Merry Christmas to you._

There was no signature.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," breathed Harry, though in reality, he felt very strange. Light-headed. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father? Why had the mysterious gift-giver kept their identity secret?

"Come on, Harry," Su smiled, tugging the cloak off his shoulders and folding it onto his bed. She gathered up her own presents and put on her Weasley jumper. "Let's go celebrate Christmas, shall we?"

Harry nodded, and followed her out of the room.

* * *

Percy had eventually gotten over his indignity at the twins' treatment of him, and was actually happily spending time with his brothers at the breakfast table.

After breakfast, Percy had helped Ron, Harry, and Su cast warming charms on themselves, and then they and the Weasleys had all gone outside to build snow men and snow forts. The snow fort building had soon devolved into a snow fight, and it was Harry, Percy, and Su against Ron and the twins.

The twins were mischievous, but Percy knew more spells – and 'Gred and Forge' had completely underestimated how cunning their brother could be when he allowed himself to unwind. All in all, Harry and Su felt confident in their victory.

The snow fights had been followed by lunch, and then exploring of the castle, or a tour of the castle, really – lead by the twins, who were better acquainted with all the secret passageways and hidden nooks and crannies.

Harry was pretty sure that Percy was mentally re-mapping his prefect patrol routes, which was a thought that had made him laugh for ten minutes – even more so when he explained his suspicions to the others, and Percy had blushed.

Christmas dinner rolled around, and Harry thought that he might just burst with happiness – and food – because there was lots of food.

There were fat roasted turkeys, and steaming roasted potatoes; there were tureens of buttered peas and large silver boats of thick, rich gravy. There were puddings and pies and pancakes – why pancakes? – Harry was especially interested in the crackers.

These fantastic party favours were nothing like the feeble muggle ones that the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and flimsy paper hats.

Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang – it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live white mice.

Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet – which, for some reason, had Su giggling like crazy and mumbling about fireflies. What was that all about?

Harry put on the rear admiral's hat, and Su was wearing an extremely colourful sombrero – they both laughed at each other and pulled several other crackers.

By the end of the dinner they were full of delicious foods, singing off-key Christmas carols with the Weasley twins, and scolded by a laughing – _laughing _– Percy Weasley, who corrected them with a surprisingly pleasant singing voice.

They were laden down with leftovers from their crackers: among them were a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and a new wizard chess set for Harry. Su had a pack of Exploding Snap cards, her own floral bonnet, and several packs of glowing bracelets.

The white mice had disappeared, and Harry had a nasty feeling that they were going to end up as Mrs Norris' Christmas dinner.

The group stumbled back up to the common room, and Harry broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. Then they sat back and laughed, watching Percy chase Fred and George all over the tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge.

Harry saw Percy's smile though, and suspected that he wasn't as upset as he pretended to be.

As the day waned, Su grew quiet… the way the Weasleys acted reminded her a lot of herself and her own younger brother, Kwon.

He'd been a year younger than her, and a lot like the twins – mischievous and prone to trouble and teasing. She'd been a lot like Percy. She'd fought a lot, with her brother, but she also loved him.

She missed her family.

Harry, too, was musing about something that had been nagging him a little all day. After he said goodnight to Su and climbed back into bed, he was free to think about it more clearly… the invisibility cloak, and whoever had sent it.

Harry leaned over the side of his bed and pulled up the cloak, running his fingers through it. It had been his father's… _his_ father's. He ran his hands over it – smoother than silk, light as air.

_Use it well_, the note had said.

He slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.

_Use it well_.

Suddenly, Harry felt wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could go anywhere in this. Anywhere. And Filch would never know.

He crept out of the dormitory and tiptoed down the stairs.

He stopped, however, when he saw Su sitting in front of the fireplace… crying.

"I'm sorry," she was saying. "All those times I said I hated you… I didn't mean it. Even Kwon – I got angry with you sometimes, but you're still my brother, and I love you." She took a deep shuddering breath, conjuring a handkerchief and blowing her nose.

"I miss you guys, I guess," she whispered. "So, so much."

Harry carefully made his way to the exit, pushing the portrait open slowly and quietly, so as not to alert either Su or the Fat Lady. He felt uncomfortable, having intruded on an obviously private moment for Su.

He wondered why, if she missed her family so much, she hadn't gone home for Christmas…

He wandered aimlessly for a while, just exploring the corridors and the castle. He was delighted to discover some previously unknown – to him – shortcuts, and even one secret passageway that he had stumbled onto.

Eventually, he found himself standing in front of a tall suit of armour, rather distinctive, Harry thought, because of it's helmet, which rather resembled a dragon. He supposed it must have been some sort of ancient intimidation technique.

There was a door, slightly ajar, nearby. It was odd, Harry thought, because all the other doors he had come across in his wanderings were firmly shut. Curious, he carefully edged through the door, hoping he would not find himself face to face with any disapproving teachers.

Though he doubted he could be punished for being out past curfew in the holidays, he didn't want to take any chances.

There were no teachers inside, ready to spring a detention on him. He was in an unused classroom – he could see the blurred silhouettes of desks and chairs pushed up against the walls.

In the middle of the room, however, was a magnificent mirror, ten feet tall, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet – like a fancy bathtub, Harry thought.

There was an inscription carved around the top of it:

_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_

Whatever that meant.

He stepped in front of the mirror, expecting to see only the empty classroom reflected back at him – his own self absent via invisibility.

When he did so, he had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around, heart pounding – for he had seen not only _himself_ in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people, standing right behind him.

But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror.

There he was, reflected in it, white and scared looking. And there, behind him, were at least ten others. Harry looked over his shoulder, but still, no one was there. Or they were all invisible. Was he, in fact, in a room full of invisible people, and this mirror's magic trick was that it reflected all of them, invisible or not?

He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there, he'd be able to touch her, but he felt only air.

She and the others existed only in the mirror.

She was a very pretty woman, Harry thought, looking closer. She had dark red hair – more like Percy's than Ron's, he thought – and her eyes…

_Her eyes are just like mine_, Harry thought, stepping closer to the glass. He knew – had always known – that his eyes were an unusually bright green.

Most people with 'green' eyes really had a sort of greenish-blue, or bluish-green or some other not-emerald green colour. Harry's eyes had always been the colour of 'green summer', as one nice teacher had told him – she was just a substitute English teacher and hadn't been told that Harry was a nasty troublemaker.

His eyes had been another thing that Aunt Petunia had used to label him a freak, especially since they reminded her so much of his mother…

_Mother…_

Harry looked at the woman more closely. Not only were her eyes the same colour, they were exactly the same shape as Harry's – they drooped a little in the outside corners. It made her look so sad, and so soft.

She was crying, he noticed: smiling, but crying at the same time.

The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore thick, square-rimmed glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just like Harry's did.

Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection. His breath fogged up the glass a little, but he hardly noticed.

"Mum?" he whispered. "Dad?"

They just looked at him, smiling, though the woman was nodding and crying and laughing too. She looked a little hysterical, but Harry knew how she felt.

He looked at the other people in the mirror – he saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his – even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees… Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.

(The Dursleys didn't count. Not even Aunt Petunia. Not really.)

Harry pressed his hands flat against the glass, as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him – half unspeakable joy, and half terrible sadness.

How long he stood there, he didn't know.

The reflections did not fade, and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here. He had to go back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his mother's face with great difficulty and turned his back.

"I'll come again," he whispered, and he hurried from the room.

* * *

Su was silent as Harry explained all about the room to her at breakfast. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, he noticed, but he still didn't know how to deal with crying girls, so he left it alone.

He paused in his explanations, wondering if Su's family problems were the reason she was so morose. She _was_ muttering about them next to a fireplace last night…

"I'd love to meet your family, Harry," she said quietly. "We can go after breakfast."

"Er… okay," he'd been planning to take her out that night, under the cloak – but of course they wouldn't be prevented from exploring the castle in the holidays. He felt kind of silly, and distracted himself by eating his breakfast as fast as he could.

Soon, the two of them were wandering around the castle, in search of that odd suit of armour. Harry was so excited he was practically bouncing off the walls.

"… and she had my eyes! The same colour and everything!" He was telling Su, who was smiling softly at him. "My dad, too – he looks a lot like me. You know, thin? Messy hair? Glasses, even! I wish I knew them, though. They seemed really nice…"

He stopped talking when he spotted the suit of armour, and the door, still slightly ajar. He ran forward, not noticing whether or not Su followed. He just wanted to see his family again – to introduce them to his best friend…

He dashed towards the mirror, and there they were. His parents beamed at the sight of him – and he grinned when he saw them craning their necks to get a good look at Su, standing in the doorway.

"I can't see anything," she whispered.

She didn't want to go further into that room. She was afraid of what she might see there. She was terrified that her heart's desire would be something that she'd never be able to touch – scared that she would see her family, the same way Harry saw his.

"Look!" Harry was too ecstatic to notice his friend's worry. "Look at them all… they're all here. My family. Su, this is where I came from." He ran up and grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the mirror.

"Stand here," he said, "look in it properly."

He stood aside, watching her face as she examined his family.

Su took a deep breath and looked into the mirror. She was right – there were her parents, smiling at her and waving. Her mum was crying, and scolding Kwon at the same time. Jo – little baby Jo – was hiding behind his father's legs, peering up at his big sister with wide, shy eyes. Harry was there, too, with his arms wrapped around her reflection's shoulders – and Neville, and Blaise, and Padma… Aunt Bea and Uncle Nate were laughing and joking with her father.

This was her heart's desire. To have the best of both worlds. To have her magic, and her family, and all of her new friends…

She burst into tears.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked. "Is it because they're dead? I know they're dead, Su. I'm just happy to be able to see them…"

"Harry," she sighed, slumping onto the ground. "What does that inscription at the top say? Read it backwards, okay?"

Puzzled, Harry stepped back and sounded out the words…

_I show not your face, but your heart's desire._

"It's not real, Harry," she whispered. "Your family, my family… neither of us will ever be able to see them again. No matter how much we want to."

"Su?"

She was quiet for a moment, wondering how much she could tell him. She hadn't even told Beatrice, or the other Unspeakables at the Department of Mysteries her whole story. Still, there were some things only an orphan would understand.

"About a year and a half ago, there was an accident," she began. "I came to live with Aunt Beatrice and Uncle Nate. The official story is that my family died in an accident, and that I was adopted by my dad's cousin…"

Harry was silent, waiting for her to continue.

"It's sort of true. There was an accident. But it wasn't my family, it was… me," she sighed. "Chronological-displacement. Not time-travelling, exactly, but kind of. It was really disorienting for me – I grew up a muggle, I didn't believe in magic, but suddenly I was a part of a world I had only ever dreamed about… and I was all alone."

She sobbed.

"I miss my family, Harry," she told him. "My parents, and even my stupid little brothers, no matter how annoying they were. The problem is… I'm never going to be able to see them again, and that's really hard for me."

Harry nodded, sitting next to her, both their backs pressed against the mirror.

"I know, Su," he said. "How it feels to be alone. I've been alone for a long time, too. My family – or my Aunt, and her family, really – they never liked me. They hate magic, or anything strange, and… they hate me. I've lived in a cupboard under the stairs for ten years. Sometimes they starved me. Sometimes they forgot about me. Sometimes they beat me. Coming to Hogwarts… meeting you and Neville… I've got a new family now."

He paused, gathering his thoughts. "My parents… who they were, where I come from, I want to understand that more than anything. I know they're not coming back though, and I think… I think that I want _you_ to be my family now. I mean, friends are the family you choose for yourself, and all that, right?"

Su smiled at Harry through her tears.

"Life sucks."

"I guess," Harry grinned. "I know that my family isn't coming back," he turned around and looked up at the faces of his parents. "But it's nice to know that they were real."

Su turned around also, gazing up at her own mixed family.

"It's nice to dream," she agreed.

* * *

**A/N: **_Not gonna lie, writing this made me cry... just a little. Harry and Su... Poor Su - can you imagine being thrown into an entirely new world, all by yourself? A world on the brink of war and horror and basilisks? Harry, too, growing up alone and unwanted, forgotten and beaten down and unloved?_

_Life sucks, doesn't it? Especially for heroes. Heroes have the worst luck. _


	13. The Calm Before the Storm

**Author's Note:**_ I've reposted this second-last chapter to fill in some of the gaps between Christmas and the end of the year. Because Harry's character is a little different now, and he's got different friends, some of the events in canon won't happen, so I'm putting other scenes in here to explore the characters and their day to day life a little better. _

_Review and let me know what you think, please!_

* * *

**~ The Calm Before the Storm ~**

Harry couldn't stop thinking about the mirror, about what he'd seen, and what he'd talked about with Su. He'd never told anyone about the Dursleys. Hagrid had seen, a little, but Harry wasn't sure if he'd understood.

Su had told him something personal about herself, even if he hadn't fully understood it, and Harry wanted to respond in kind. He was glad that she didn't pity him; that she hadn't apologised for his family as if it were her fault, because it wasn't.

_"Life sucks," _she'd said. That was the truth if he'd ever heard it.

She was talking to Percy about Ancient Runes again… he wondered if she'd figure out how to fix his eyesight. He had the strangest conviction that if anyone could do it, it would be her. He wondered where his faith in her came from…

Was this just implicit trust between friends? Was there some kind of emotional connection between them because they were both orphans of sorts? He didn't know.

He invited her to go with him to see the mirror again, but she'd shaken her head.

"I know you've never known your family, Harry," she said. "So you want to see them, and absorb them as much as possible, whatever. For me though… I guess the wound's still fresh, or something like that. It just hurts too much."

"I'll be back in time for dinner," he promised, before running back out into the corridors, through the labyrinth that was Hogwarts until he found the room again.

They were still there, in the mirror… and Su and Neville were there too. He wondered if that had something to do with the 'family that you choose' speech he'd made the other day. It made him happy though, sitting there, seeing his family and his friends looking back at him, smiling and laughing.

"So… back again, Harry?"

He jumped, and turned around. There, sitting on one of the desks by the wall, was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past the old Headmaster, in his eagerness to see the mirror again.

"I– I didn't see you, sir."

"Indeed," Dumbledore hummed, pulling out a packet of lollies. "Gummy bear?"

"No thanks."

"So," said Dumbledore, standing up and walking towards Harry, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"Is that what it's called, sir?"

"It is. I expect you've realised, by now, what it does?"

Harry glanced up at the inscription, and back at Dumbledore.

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"It shows you…" Harry took a deep breath. "It shows you your heart's desire, sir."

Dumbledore beamed. "Indeed – you, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Miss Li, who has lost hers so recently, sees the same."

"How did you know, sir?" Harry asked, wary.

Dumbledore smiled enigmatically, eyes twinkling.

"I don't need a cloak, to become invisible."

"With all due respect, sir," Harry looked up into the old man's eyes. "I think that those things are private. Please don't ask Su or me about them. I'm not going to ask what you see in the mirror, either."

Dumbledore glanced into the mirror in question, sighing at his own impossible desire.

"I suppose not," he said. "I did not mean to pry, Harry. I was simply present in the room when the two of you were having your discussion. I guessed that one of you might come again, but I must warn you… men have wasted away in front of this mirror, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. It does not give knowledge, or truth, only your deepest longing."

He put an arm around Harry's shoulders, and guided him to the door.

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. Remember that."

He paused and regarded Harry for a long moment.

"Please tell Miss Li the same. She's a good girl. Reminds me of another that I knew a long time ago…" he trailed off. "I hope also, Harry, that you are doing your homework."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Harry and Su greeted Neville with hugs when term began again. All of them admired the wand that Neville had bought – oak and unicorn tail hair, eleven and a quarter inches, good for transfigurations – which he had kept secret from his grandmother, with some difficulty.

They traded exciting stories: Neville about sneaking out of the house and catching the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley to buy the wand, and Harry and Su about finding the mirror.

"I bet I would have seen my family, too," Neville admitted when they explained how it worked. "My parents are… well… they're not well."

Su sighed. "Look at us, a ragtag bunch of orphans, aren't we?"

The boys smiled sadly at her.

"Yeah," Harry scoffed. "We are."

He told them about the nightmares he'd been having, since the night he'd seen the mirror – dreaming about his parents disappearing in a flash of green light, while a high voice cackled with laughter.

"Probably about the night your parents died," Neville told him. "The Killing Curse – it's green, you know. It's can't be blocked, and there's no deflecting it either, that's why you're so famous, Harry. You survived it – no one ever has before."

"You could ask Madam Pomfrey for some Dreamless Sleep Potion," Su suggested. "She gave me some after the boggart-incident. You have to be careful though – they can be addictive. I'm only allowed to have two bottles a month."

"Maybe," Harry shrugged.

He was happy when Oliver started up Quidditch practice again. He found that he was having fewer nightmares when he was exhausted from flying around in the rain all afternoon. The only thing that dampened his spirits was hearing that Snape would be refereeing the match against Hufflepuff.

This news had left most of the Quidditch team in outrage.

"At least this match isn't against Slytherin," Su pointed out, standing in the middle of their little huddle, with Neville.

"Su," Alicia Spinnet put a hand around the younger girl's shoulders. "If Gryffindor wins this match by a high enough point margin, they'll overtake Slytherin in the running for the Quidditch cup."

Su squinted up at the older girl. "Uh-huh… I think Snape's just trying to stop anything happening like it did last time, with Harry's broom. I mean – it was obviously jinxed."

"Snape doesn't like me though," Harry pointed out.

Su rolled her eyes. "He doesn't have to like you to protect you. You're a student. He's a teacher. He's being responsible. And he knows a lot about the Dark Arts, so he can definitely recognise and counter them if he sees anything suspicious."

Oliver sighed, sitting down, and inviting Su to come sit down next to him.

"Responsibility or not," he said, "Snape's still a slimy git who plays favourites to the Slytherins. Just because he's 'protecting' us doesn't mean he can't be an unfair referee."

Su pursed her lips, and shrugged. "If you say so."

Oliver nodded and squinted up at the sky. "It's going to rain, soon." He said. "Here, take this," he wrapped his heavy winter cloak around her small shoulders.

"What about me?" Neville squeaked, faking indignity. Oliver winked at him.

"It's how you treat a lady," he grinned, before flying off.

Eventually they made their way back to their common rooms, Harry and Neville waving goodbye to Su when she split off towards Ravenclaw tower.

In the common room they saw Ron and Hermione playing chess – the one thing that Ron could beat her at – and Dean and Seamus discussing football. Apparently, Dean had invited Seamus over to his house to watch a match on TV, and had gotten his friend hooked on the sport.

The Quidditch match had turned out to be a bit of an anti-climax, after all the worrying the team had done. Dumbledore had been watching, which meant that Snape refereed fairly, if sulkily – especially when he penalised Gryffindor for George Weasley batting a bludger into his face.

Harry caught the snitch after about twenty minutes, leaving the scores 180 – 20, Gryffindor's favour. After the match, the Hufflepuff Seeker, Cedric Diggory, came over to congratulate Harry on a good catch.

It had been pretty close, actually – he and Cedric had been neck and neck – Harry wondered if his faster _Nimbus 2000_ had given him the ultimate advantage.

"Well done, Harry," he said. "Well played."

"You too," Harry grinned. "It was pretty close, wasn't it?"

"I'll get you next time, Potter," Cedric beamed back, before loping back to Hufflepuff.

"Harry! You were brilliant!" Neville came running up to his friend, pumping his hand in congratulations. Harry noticed his friend was sporting a shiny black eye.

"What happened?"

Neville shrugged. "Ron Weasley and I got in a fight with Malfoy and his goons. Pretty spectacular, actually. You should see them! Ron's out cold, but Madam Pomfrey reckons he'll be alright by tomorrow."

"Malfoy?" Harry scowled. He hadn't thought about that blonde ponce in a while.

"Don't worry about it, Harry," Neville grinned. "He's all talk. And anyway, Su hexed him when he said that I had no brains – said he should look in the mirror first… or maybe left and right. Crabbe and Goyle didn't even blink."

"Where is Su?" Harry asked, looking around.

"Wanted to finish her homework," Neville admitted, grinning sheepishly. "Told me to congratulate you on your win. She's gone off to the library."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course she has."

* * *

Snape stalked back to the castle, sour after his confrontation with Quirrell. He didn't like the games that Dumbledore was playing – if he wanted to trap Quirrell then he should just trap Quirrell. Why all the fuss?

His scowl deepened as he saw Su Li stumbling out of the library, being shoved by two of his own Slytherin first years. Parkinson and Bulstrode. They hadn't learned their lesson. Turpin had, after a month's worth of detentions with him… he had a habit of first years cry, and not always on purpose.

"Miss Parkinson, Miss Bulstrode," he sneered. "I believe you are missing dinner?"

They looked up at him, paled at his stony expression, and scampered off, leaving him with the Ravenclaw.

He'd been avoiding her ever since that… _bizarre _confrontation in the Hospital Wing. He didn't want to admit to himself that she'd frightened him, looking at him with those starry eyes. Later he'd decided that she was just out of it, due to all the potions she'd consumed… still, it was easier to stay away, if only so that he wouldn't make her cry.

However… she suspected Quirrell. That much was obvious – when she'd hexed him and broken his concentration on Harry's broom. How and why she suspected Quirrell though – that was a question that needed answering.

He picked up the last of her books that had been scattered on the ground, and handed them to her. She accepted them warily.

"Thank you, Professor," she said.

He didn't move, and neither did she.

"Is there something you wanted, sir?"

"You don't like Professor Quirrell, do you, Miss Li?"

She stiffened, but looked him in the eye. "What makes you say that?"

It was easier talking to her now, he thought, relieved. Her eyes were black, not starry. They didn't see through him the way they did before.

"You hexed him."

"You saw that?"

He simply arched an eyebrow.

"He's suspicious," she admitted at last. "What kind of Defence teacher can't incapacitate a troll? They're not smart. What was he doing wandering the dungeons on Halloween anyway? His stories about Dark creatures to match up with the facts that we know about them – he's a terrible teacher, stuttering aside – and I saw him muttering something while watching Harry's broom at the match."

She took a deep breath.

"Is that enough for you?"

Snape looked at her for a long moment. "Yes."

She didn't move.

"Professor… you're suspicious of him too – aren't you?" He said nothing. "Why– why isn't Dumbledore doing anything? Why is there a deadly trap for Dark Lords in a school full of children? Is it… is it because of Harry?" Snape sneered, but she went on. "Is he trying to lure Harry into… into some kind of hero-training? Because that's not safe. I disapprove. That's… that's just not…"

She trailed off, looking a little lost.

"At least put better locking charms on the door," she said. "If _alohomora_ can open it, then any first year can go in and get eaten by a monster."

She ran off before he could ask when she'd gone into the forbidden third-floor corridor. He subtracted two points from Ravenclaw anyway.

* * *

The Girl was there again – in her dreams. She was sitting on the edge of the dais, her legs swinging as she hummed a song. Mary had a little lamb.

"Do you have a name?" Su asked.

The Girl looked up at her and blinked.

"No?" Su sighed, slumping against the wall. "Can you tell me anything about yourself? Nothing? You can speak, I know that – you have before." The Girl remained silent.

Su scowled.

"Why are we even here?"

"It wants us back," the Girl replied absently. "We don't belong here."

"Well… why are _you_ here?" Su asked. "I mean; this is _my _dream. Are you… are you dead too?"

"You're not really dead, though, are you," the Girl looked at her. "You're here, aren't you? Living your life, making friends… doing magic. You're alive."

"Then what are you? Are you just a figment of my imagination? Maybe I'm just hallucinating this whole thing. Maybe I'm in a coma in a hospital with my parents waiting for me to wake up…" Su stood up, looking at the Veil. "Maybe if I go through that Veil I'll go home. I mean, what can it do to me? This is only a dream."

The Girl hopped off the dais before Su could even take a single step, her eyes wide and panicked.

"NO!" She shouted, startling Su. "You can't. _I _can't. Don't make me go back. I'm not ready yet. We still have a whole life left to lead."

"What are you talking about?"

But the Girl just shook her head, and moments later Su woke up.

* * *

"I think Ron Weasley must be some sort of secret genius," Neville sighed, looking over at the redhead who was hiding behind a couch in the common room, trying to avoid a certain bushy-haired best friend. "I mean, I've never seen him studying, but he's still passing all his classes just fine. Not like me."

"You're not failing anything, Neville," Harry frowned.

"I have to study for hours just to get where I am, though," Neville pointed out.

"Me too," Harry admitted. "It's a good thing we have Su. I don't think I'd ever understand all this wand-waving theory otherwise. Look at these notes: _Wingardium Leviosa, the Levitation Charm. Swish and flick. Imagine the swish as 'scooping' up whatever object you wish to levitate, and imagine the flick as 'catching' the object on the end of your wand so that you can direct it._ Where did she even find this?"

"_The Theory of Visualisation and Achievement_ by Judas Belby," Neville picked up the book that Su had lent him. "There's a lot in here that doesn't make sense, but there's also a lot that does. I wonder if Percy Weasley would help us out."

Harry shrugged. "We could ask."

But Percy was, mysteriously, nowhere to be found, which was odd, because when Harry asked Joanna Ford, the other fifth year prefect, he was told that it wasn't Percy's patrol night, so he should have been somewhere in the tower.

He wasn't in his dorm, or any of the other boys' dorms, and he wasn't anywhere in the common room either. Percy wasn't the sort to break the rules, and Harry and Neville were getting suspicious.

"What if Percy's been kidnapped?" Neville worried.

"He might be in detention," Harry guessed. Neville blinked at him. "With Snape?" He added weakly. It was hopeless though. Percy Weasley would never get detention for anything, not even from Snape.

"What are you two worrying about?" Oliver Wood came up behind them, slinging his arms around their shoulders. "The Ravenclaw match? Harry, if you keep up the good work, it won't be a problem. We'll have the Quidditch cup in the bag."

"Actually, we were wondering where Percy is," Harry admitted. "We needed help with some of this wand waving theory, for transfiguration – I've got the practical work, but the essays… not so much."

"Hmmm," Oliver squinted at the paper in Harry's hand. "I think I can help you out with this. Oh, and you don't need to worry about Percy. I'm sure he's just dandy."

He snickered, but neither Harry nor Neville understood the joke.

"Never mind," Oliver sighed. "I'll tell you when you're older."

"Wait," Neville blinked. "Does Percy have a… a girlfriend? Percy Weasley?"

Oliver grinned. "Mum's the word, boys. He doesn't want his brothers to know."

"I bet the twins know," Harry murmured, thinking of that mysterious 'Marauder's Map' they'd used to find Su. Also – those little scuttling 'Private Eye' spiders… Ha! '_Spy_ders!' He snickered to himself, earning a raised eyebrow from Neville, and a roguish grin from Oliver. He doubted either knew what he was thinking, but he'd be sure to mention the punny alternate name to the twins later.

"All right boys, enough of Percy," Oliver led them over to a study table elsewhere in the common room and they crowded around it. "Let's see if we can crack this theory, aye?"

"Aye."

* * *

"Are you still having nightmares?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

Su thought about the dreams – about the Veil, and the Girl, and Death, and all those other capitalised words that seemed so important. They weren't nightmares, exactly, and they weren't really related to the boggart-incident, which she was sure was what Madam Pomfrey was referring to.

"No," she answered. "Not anymore. Not really."

"Not really," Madam Pomfrey scoffed.

"They're not as bad as they were," Su explained. "Just… dreams. Normal dreams."

_Normal for a wizard, maybe_, she thought. _Harry has weird dreams, too. About Voldemort, and flying motorbikes, and stuff like that._

"Well," Madam Pomfrey eyed her warily – she was probably used to students lying to get out of their medication. "If you start having nightmares again, come _straight_ to me. No whining to your friends, or begging off Professor McGonagall's ear. If you have so much as a _blink_ of something… nightmarish… I don't care if you're in the middle of a class, you'll march yourself right out and over to the Hospital Wing. Ask one of the older students to help you if you're feeling faint."

Madam Pomfrey fixed her with a fierce glare that so reminded Su of her mother that she felt herself tearing up a little. Pomfrey looked aghast.

"Look at you, girl!" She shrieked. "Take the potion!" She shoved a phial of Dreamless Sleep into Su's hands. "You're fragile, don't you understand?"

"It's not nightmares, Madam Pomfrey," Su sighed, wiping away the shadows of tears and giving the potion back. "I just… I lost my parents recently, and I was just reminded of my own mum, fussing over me like that."

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips. "You'll be all right, dear. I'm sure of it. You're a bright girl," she eyed Su's Ravenclaw robes, "you'll make something of yourself one day. Your parents would be so proud of you."

Su beamed. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. Should I go now?"

"Take the potion with you," Madam Pomfrey pushed the phial into Su's hands. "Just in case. They keep for two or so years, so…"

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

"You're welcome, dear."

Su left the Hospital Wing feeling rather emotional. The conversation with Madam Pomfrey reminded her of the last time that she'd spoken with Beatrice and Nathan, just before getting on the Hogwarts Express at Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

_"You'll be okay? You'll write to us? There are school owls that you can borrow… or you could ask one of your friends… Have you got everything? Make sure to eat well. If things get desperate, you can sneak down to the kitchens and make requests of the house elves. Congee for breakfast, stir-fry for dinner. And rice. Lots of rice. Make sure to eat your vegetables… and behave for Minnie – er, McGonagall – she's a strict one. Nice, though. Dead clever, too…" _

_Beatrice laughed. "Calm down, Nathan. Su's a smart girl, she'll be fine." _

_"A shoo-in for Ravenclaw then, I suppose," Nathan sighed. _

_"Oh, I think there's a possibility of green in her future, too," Beatrice winked at Su, who grinned back. "She's very ambitious, and though manipulating you isn't that difficult a task – lovely, doting man that you are – convincing _me_ to take her to that conference in Amsterdam took a great deal of cunning." _

_"You have such a high opinion of yourself," Nathan scoffed and rolled his eyes, but his girls knew that he didn't really mean it. _

_It had been such a good year together, Su thought. Learning all about the wizarding world, introducing Nathan and Beatrice to muggle delights like card games and movies, having her first experiences with accidental magic…_

_She still missed her parents, with a fierce ache, and her little brothers too. Sometimes it felt as though she were on a very long holiday, having fun with Aunt Bea and Uncle Nate. Other times… other times she almost forgot about her old family, which she felt guilty about. Other times she'd fight with Aunt Bea, and throw tantrums the way she had back… back home. _

_If she had to admit it to herself, she was scared to get too close to Bea and Nathan, which was part of why going to Hogwarts would be such a relief. If she was away from them, she'd stop seeing them as a– a replacement family. That way, if she were snatched away from this world again, it wouldn't hurt as much. _

_Beatrice seemed to read her mind. _

_"We'll miss you, Su," she said, pulling the girl into a hug. "We'll be very proud, no matter where you're sorted. We're family, and that's not going to change." _

_Su didn't protest the lie – they weren't really family, she didn't even _belong_ in this world – but she couldn't help the way it affected her either._

Su sighed. She'd become attached anyway – to Harry, to Neville, to Padma, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and to Hogwarts, and to everything magical… and yes, to Beatrice and Nathan, too, despite all her efforts.

It seemed that if she were to leave this world, she would be just as devastated as when she entered it. Her old life, no matter how much she missed her family, or the Internet, or some of her favourite books… it all seemed so far away. She could never go back there, and the memories were starting to fade.

She could still remember big things, and the way she felt about her family, and how she'd been bullied at school… those things remained. But little things – everyday things – those were slowly disappearing. She couldn't remember what her mother's favourite colour was, or what her father's accounting firm was called. She didn't remember the name of that guy on Kwon's football team who had dared pick on her little brother. These little parts of her life, which she had so taken for granted, were becoming washed out and hazy. It made her kind of sad.

"Stop moping, Su Ran Li," she told herself, scowling at the floor. "Mum and Dad would want you to be happy, you stupid, stupid girl." Scolding herself made her feel a little better, and banishing thoughts of her past life from her mind, Su set out to find her friends.

Harry and Neville were in the library, with Hermione Granger, and Ron and Percy Weasley. Percy was helping his brother with his homework, surprisingly gentle for the generally brusque prefect. Hermione was badgering Harry and Neville to get ahead on their worst subjects; for Harry it was Herbology and History of Magic, and for Neville, it was Potions and Transfiguration.

So when Su finally found them, everyone was already working on their homework, and hardly noticed when she slipped in, though Hermione grinned fiercely at her arrival.

"Would you like to read over my essay for Transfiguration?" She asked innocently.

Su took the proffered parchment.

"Would you like to look over my notes for Potions?" she offered in return.

She and Granger had perfected this passive-aggressive form of rivalry months ago, and it served two purposes. The first was for one girl to lord over the other how much better she was at a particular subject. The other was that each girl got indirect tutoring in said subjects.

"I hear Professor McGonagall practically sings your praises, Granger," Su commented blithely, ignoring the way Harry and Neville rolled their eyes.

"Is that so?" Hermione asked mildly. "Professor Flitwick certainly seems to hold you up as a prodigious Charms Mistress."

Percy arched an eyebrow, having not really seen the girls exchanging what they called 'aggressive flattery'. Ron was rather oblivious, however… or perhaps he was just used to it.

Su enjoyed this friendly rivalry with the Gryffindor, who was much cheekier than she remembered from the books. It was nice, she thought, to be able to compare notes with a like-minded student. Harry and Neville were hardly stupid – quite bright, actually – but neither had the same motivation for study as Hermione and Su.

_This, _Su thought, as she made notes from Granger's essay, _is the life._

She tried not to think about how it was likely the calm before the storm.

* * *

The end of the year was approaching, which meant exams were approaching too. Ron often complained to the other Gryffindor boys that Hermione Granger was putting him through a hellish study schedule – but his classmates had noticed a marked improvement of his grades.

Su helped Harry and Neville revise in the library, occasionally joined by Blaise Zabini. Oliver Wood and Percy Weasley would also help them out if they were around, and the Weasley twins would pop over to check on their progress, usually pranking as they went. Su offered to hex them when they were almost thrown out of the library my Madam Pince. Neville offered too. The twins toned it down after that.

To their surprise, however, a little while after the Easter holidays, they found Hagrid in the library, browsing the shelves. They'd never seen him in the library before.

"Hagrid?" Harry grinned, hugging his friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Jus' lookin'," Hagrid grunted. "Er… well, I'll see you around, Harry!"

He dashed out of the library, to the befuddlement of the trio.

"What was that all about?" Su wondered.

"I think I know," Neville sighed, picking up one of the books that Hagrid had dropped.

_From Egg to Inferno: A Dragon Keeper's Guide_.

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon," Harry said. "He told me so the first time I met him."

"But it's against the law," Neville told them. "Everyone knows that. The only ones allowed are supposed to be kept on Dragon Reserves, like the one Charlie Weasley works at in Romania."

"Why doesn't Hagrid just go work at a dragon reserve?" Su asked.

"I dunno," Harry shrugged. "We can ask him."

They went over the next free Friday afternoon that they had, though they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Harry and Neville had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

"Who is it?" Hagrid asked when they knocked.

"It's me, Harry! I've got Neville and Su with me too."

Hagrid opened the door and ushered them inside quickly. Even though it was a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Sleeping in the fire was a baby dragon.

"Hagrid…" Su began slowly. "Where did you get that?"

"Won him," Hagrid beamed. "Couple o' weeks ago. Down in Hogsmeade having a few drinks with a stranger, and we got into a game o' cards. Think he was glad ter be rid of it, ter be honest. He was an odd one, 'e was."

"Hagrid," Neville looked up at the half-giant, shaking. "You live in a _wooden hut_. Everything in this room is flammable!"

Hagrid frowned. "Didn' think o' that."

"Hagrid what were you thinking?" Harry asked. "Isn't dragon breeding illegal?"

"Well…"

"Why don't you send him to a reserve, and go with him? Nothing's stopping you from working at a dragon reserve, if it's your dream, is there?"

"I owe Dumbledore a lot," Hagrid sighed. "He took me in, y'know. Gave me a job even when I was expelled."

"If he took you in, don't you think he'd be happy for you to do what you want to?" Harry asked. "I mean, if you really want to work with dragons, Hagrid, you don't have to break the law to do it. I'm sure Dumbledore could write a recommendation letter."

"I… I'll think about it," Hagrid sighed.

"Good," Neville nodded. "I don't think that thing's safe to keep around children."

"Who?" Hagrid looked at where Neville was pointing – the dragon. "Norbert? Nah, he wouldn't hurt a fly! He's a Norwegian Ridgeback, y'know. Rare, them. Got hunted a lot in sixteenth century. Isn't he beautiful?"

He prattled on a bit about the dragon, the three eleven-year-olds too uncomfortable to really put a stop to his rambling.

Hagrid sighed, and got a far away look in his eyes.

"Y'know," he said, smiling sadly at the trio, "I think you're right. I might write ter Charlie Weasley and ask if they've got room in the Reserve for me. Imagine it… _dragons_. Everywhere. Dumbledore'll understand. I'll stick around 'til the end of the year…"

"I'm glad Hagrid," Harry said, finally, clapping the man on the shoulder. "Living your dream sounds pretty good. I hope it all works out for you."

The three of them dashed out of the house, before the dragon woke up and decided to eat them.

* * *

They were relieved, two weeks later, when Hagrid wrote them a happy note telling them that Charlie Weasley had taken Norbert to Romania, and that Hagrid would be joining both dragon and Weasley there at the end of the school year.

_Crisis averted_, Su thought, remembering the life-endangering detention Harry had taken as a result of trying to smuggle Norbert out of the castle in the book. She glanced at Quirrell, sitting at the High Table, her stomach rolling nervously. She'd rather her friend didn't face Darth Volder any sooner than he had to.

Quirrell's eyes snapped up to meet hers, and Su looked away.

Well, it looked like Harry was more occupied with his studies than the mystery of what was lurking in the third floor corridor. That was a good thing, she was pretty sure.

They were very busy, revising for exams, memorising potions recipes and charms and transfigurations. History of Magic was probably the hardest, because there were no practical applications to help pound the theory into their heads, so the trio spent hours poring over their textbook and reciting names and dates until they could monologue about the goblin rebellions in their sleep.

Then, about a week before the exams were due to start, Harry stumbled onto something rather disturbing. He was walking back to the common room from Quidditch practice one afternoon, when he heard somebody whimpering in a classroom up ahead.

When he drew closer, he could hear Quirrell's voice.

"No! No! Not again! Please!"

It sounded as though someone was threatening him – there was a second voice, low and muffled. Harry moved closer to the door, stepping lightly.

"All right – all right," Quirrell sobbed.

Moments later Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom, straightening his turban as he went. He was pale, and looked as though he was about to cry. Harry didn't think that Quirrell had noticed him, but as he watched the back of the professor's turban, his scar prickled again. What on earth was under that turban?

He peered into the classroom, but there was nobody there.

Shaken, Harry made his way back to the common room.

* * *

Exams came and went without a hitch. Su felt pretty confident in her practicals, though she worried a little about her theory exams. She had struggled a little with the quills, having used muggle pens the whole year. Still, she thought she'd done well.

Harry and Neville felt confident as well – which was more impressive for Neville than Harry, because he'd always been rather insecure. After the exams were over, they'd celebrated in the kitchens with the Weasley twins, Oliver Wood, and ice cream.

Oliver was sweating over his O.W.L.s a bit, but decided that, ultimately, his chosen career of professional Quidditch Keeper didn't really rely on academics, and so even if he did poorly, it was no _great_ loss. Su reminded him that he could take his exams again, and he paled at the thought – which the Weasleys found hilarious.

Harry had found the exams a little challenging, but he did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his forehead, which had been bothering him ever since he'd seen Quirrell talking to himself. The nightmares had come back as well.

The three of them were coming back from the kitchens later that night, laughing as Oliver raced the twins up to Gryffindor tower, all of them eager not to be caught out past curfew, even if it was the end of the year.

Harry was rubbing his forehead, however.

"I wish I knew what it means!" He burst out, angrily. "My scar keeps hurting. It's happened before, but never as often as this."

"Do you need to go to Madam Pomfrey?" Neville asked.

Harry shook his head. "I'm not ill," he said. "I think it's a warning… it means danger's coming…"

"No. It's not," Su scowled. "Let's go Harry. We'll go to sleep, and in the morning, everything will be fine. We passed our exams, okay?"

She stormed determinedly up the corridor, followed by a bewildered Harry and Neville.

"What's her problem?" Harry asked.

Neville just shrugged.

It was late, Su knew, but it wasn't like they were going to get caught by Filch… were they? She really didn't want to get a detention… she gasped as she ran face first into someone's chest, walking around the corner.

Stepping back, she looked up into the grim face of Professor Quirrell.

Harry and Neville stopped behind her… oh god, where were they? She looked around – they were only a few turns away from the forbidden corridor.

"Well, well, well," Quirrell raised an eyebrow in an oddly Snape-like way. "What do we have here?" He'd lost the stutter she noticed. That was a bad sign.

The trio began to back away, but fell over when Quirrell waved his wand, dropping them with a leg-locker curse.

"I'm afraid I can't let you escape," he sighed. "My Master would be most displeased. Don't think he hasn't noticed you staring… whispering… _skulking_."

They shivered – Quirrell was scary without the stutter. Why hadn't they noticed that?

"Since I'll be needing you later, anyway," Quirrell summoned their wands, before conjuring some ropes that tied themselves around the trio's wrists. Another flick of his wand, and the leg-locker was released. "_Silencio_," he hissed, just as they were about to scream.

He stalked along the corridor, and they stumbled behind, pulled by the ropes around their wrists. Quirrell sneered at them as they approached the third-floor corridor, and spent a few minutes working through the protective spells on the door.

At least Snape had taken Su's advice about putting better protection on the door.

Finally, the door creaked open, and Quirrell turned to smirk at the three terrified first-years. "After you," he said.

They trembled.

* * *

**A/N: **_I owe the term 'spyders' to **QuietLovingMan.** Thank you. You're awesome. I've also tried to add a bit more flesh to this chapter, which was rather bare previously, by expanding on some characters and character relationships: particularly Harry, Neville, Ron, Hermione, Percy, and Oliver. _

_I hope you enjoy the story (and the changes/additions) and review to let me know :)_


	14. The Philosopher's Stone

**Author's Note:** _Last chapter of Year One! Confrontations with Voldemort! Escape plans! Cryptic messages! Promises of a SEQUEL!__  
_

_At this point I would like to thank the following reviewers for their continued support: _

**_Shadowsmage, annadoesfanfic, RebeliousOne, lightning king, AshantiVL, Kairan1979, Pisces Heiress Black, mwinter1, AngelQueen, quietlovingman, and Just Another Aceves._**

_Cookies for all of you!_

* * *

**~ The Philosopher's Stone ~**

If the three-headed dog had been terrifying before, it was doubly so now, with no escape, no way to scream, and a stutter-less Quirrell at their backs. Neville whimpered at the sight of the dog, Su glanced around trying desperately to think of a way to notify the other teachers of their kidnapping, and Harry was wriggling around his restraints, trying to loosen the ropes at his wrists.

Fluffy growled as the intruders neared, but Quirrell conjured a harp, and it began to play a soft and sweet lullaby. The gentleness of the music was so contrasted to their desperate and frightening situation, Su and Neville sobbed even harder.

Harry, however, was still grim and determined.

"Come on," Quirrell tugged on their ropes and they stumbled after him towards the trap door that Fluffy had been guarding. Quirrell pulled it up and gestured for them to jump inside. "If you don't jump, you'll regret it," he hissed, raising his wand.

Crying, the three first years did as they were told.

They landed on something soft, though they couldn't see what it was in the dark. The silencing charm was wearing off, but they seriously doubted that anyone was going to hear them screaming any time soon.

Quirrell jumped down after them, and with a flick of his wand, the trap door closed again. A whispered _lumos_ later, and they were all bathed in a soft blue light.

The light revealed the trio, wrapped in climbing vines, curling around their bodies, trapping them in a web of plant-ropes. Quirrell scowled.

"What is this?" He hissed, slashing at the plant with his wand as it tried to wrap around his legs.

Su and Harry glanced at Neville – he _was_ a Herbology expert, and the answer from the book escaped Su's memories in all the terror of kidnapping.

The boggart had been one thing – but it was only a shade of true terror – a pale imitation. Here was the true Voldemort (albeit, attached to the back of someone else's head) and he was willing to kill.

Quirrell noticed them looking at Neville, and turned his attention to the boy as well.

"Well, boy?" He scowled. "Do you know what this is?"

"D-devil's snare," Neville sobbed. "Please, sir…"

"Stop whining," Quirrell snapped, casting a sunlight charm, which caused the Devil's Snare to shrink away from its victims. "Keep walking."

The three children did as they were told, Harry still working furiously at his ropes. They were too tight, and nothing was happening, however.

Quirrell lead them down a dark passageway that sloped downward, deeper beneath the castle. All they could hear was their footsteps, their harsh breathing, and the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls.

"Can you hear something?" Neville whispered.

They could. A soft rustling and clinking sound came from up ahead.

"Keep walking!" Quirrell barked.

They followed the passage, spying a light up ahead. Soon they found themselves in a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room.

On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

Quirrell left them standing at the chamber entrance to go examine the door, and then he began casting all sorts of charms and spells on it.

"Do you think we should make a run for it?" Harry whispered, glancing back at the passageway. Neville shook his head.

"He's got a wand. We're tied up. And there's no way to get back up through the trapdoor." He said.

"So what do we do?" Harry asked.

Quirrell had turned away from the door at this point, and was looking up at the birds.

"_Accio _key!" He shouted. Nothing happened. It did, however, remind Su of something.

"Do you remember when I was trapped in the broom shed with the boggart?" She asked. The boys grimaced and nodded. "I summoned my wand then, because Pansy had stolen it… I think, if Quirrell was distracted, I could summon our wands back."

They looked over at the professor in question, who had climbed onto a broom now, and was being attacked by the sparkling birds.

"What do we do when we get our wands back?" Neville asked.

"I don't know," Su admitted. "Get the ropes off, I guess. The rest we'll just have to play by ear."

"I'm scared," Neville admitted.

"Me too," Su huddled closer to him.

"We all are," Harry told them. "We'll get through this. We just have to keep our heads, that's all."

"Easier said than done," Su replied.

A few minutes later, a very much worse for wear Quirrell, with his robes torn and frayed by the attacking birds – _keys_, winged keys – appeared next to them, picking up the rope and tugging them towards the door.

He unlocked it and opened it, and pushed them through. Light flooded the room as they entered it, revealing a giant chessboard. They were standing behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from some kind of black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces.

Harry, Su, and Neville shivered slightly. The chessmen had no faces. Creepy.

"Stay there," Quirrell hissed. He stepped up next to the black king, who stood aside. Quirrell glared at the white pieces and, finally, one white pawn moved ahead two spaces.

The game had begun.

Taking a deep breath, Su indicated for the two boys to shuffle over behind Quirrell a bit more, so that she'd better be able to summon their wands.

"You can do it, Su," Harry assured her. Neville reached out and squeezed her hand. He had stopped crying now, and looked as determined as Harry did.

"_Accio_ wand," Su whispered. Nothing happened. "_Accio _wand," she repeated. The game went on for some minutes, while Su concentrated on summoning her wand.

The three of them jumped, however, when the first piece was taken.

One white pawn pulled out a pair of swords and viciously slashed at one of the black pawns, crumbling half of it to dust and rubble on the board, before picking up the other half and tossing it off to the side like yesterday's trash.

"We're going to die," Neville whimpered.

"No. We're not," Harry told him, grabbing hold of Neville's shoulders and forcing the other boy to meet his eyes. "We're not going to die, tonight, Neville."

"Do you know why?" Su whispered, almost to herself. "Because we are so goddamn pretty. We are just too pretty for God to let us die."

Neville snorted a little, laughing through his tears. "Speak for yourself."

"_Accio_ wand," Su hissed, brow furrowing in concentration. This had better work. If it didn't work, they were dead, and she didn't want to die. It would work, she thought. It would, because it had worked before. If it could work before, it would work now.

"_Accio_ wand," she said again.

The three of them held their breath when, suddenly, her wand slowly – painfully slowly – floated out of Quirrell's pocket. Nobody moved. Fortunately, it didn't appear as though Quirrell had noticed.

Su was glad, actually, for the slow movement, as the wand finally made it into her hand. If it had zipped out faster, Quirrell would have noticed, and they would have been back at square one.

"Okay," she told the boys. "I'm going to wandlessly summon your wands as well, because it moves slower. If the wands zip out any faster, he'll notice."

"What are you muttering about over there?" Quirrell asked, making them jump.

"We were wondering why we're here," Harry told him, thinking quickly. "Who's your 'Master'? Why does he need us? We're just kids."

Quirrell scoffed. "_You_, Harry Potter, are not an ordinary child, though, are you? The others are superfluous, but I'm sure my Master can make plans for them. However… you, Harry Potter, have a destiny – and I am never a man to deny destiny."

Cackling, Quirrell turned back to the chess game.

"Su," Harry whispered. "Get. Our. Wands."

"On it. _Accio _wand," she said. This time, because she'd had a little practice, Harry's wand floated out almost immediately. Seconds later, it was in Harry's hand. He wasted no time in quietly applying the cutting charm to Neville's ropes so that the only unarmed one among them would have a chance if Quirrell noticed what was happening.

Su examined the chess game – it was coming to a close, she could tell. After playing with, and watching Ron Weasley play chess, she could recognise that the two opponents were drawing to a conclusion.

"_Accio_ wand," she whispered desperately. Neville's wand flew into her hands, and she subsequently shoved it at him. "Go!" She hissed. "Get help!"

Neville opened his mouth to argue, but at that moment, Quirrell turned around to look at them… and saw Neville unbound with his wand in hand. His eyes flashed dangerously.

"GO!" Harry and Su shouted, pushing Neville into the passageway while Harry shot a leg-locker curse at Quirrell, who deflected the attack easily.

Neville watched his friends face off against their professor, and was about to charge in and help, when Quirrell shot a curse off at him. He ducked under it, scrambling backwards, only to find that the passageway had caved in just in front of him.

He was cut off from his friends… the only way to go was back again.

He could hear Su screaming on the other side of the rubble, and Harry shouting to distract Quirrell's attention away from her. Neville felt terrified.

_I have to get help_, he thought. _I have to save my friends. _

Steeling his resolve, Neville ran back up the passageway.

* * *

_I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die, _Su thought, ducking around the fallen chess pieces, trying to get rid of the stupid ropes. _I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die, AGAIN!_

Aha! The rope came undone, and Su squealed when a bright red spell came hurtling towards her head. Harry tackled her to the ground, probably saving her life.

"Come on!" He shouted, racing towards the door that had opened behind the white chess pieces. Su didn't need to be told twice. She ran after Harry, glad for all the fitness training she had gotten trying to get to classes on time around the maze-like castle.

They dived through the door, slamming it shut just as Quirrell shrieked with rage.

"I hope the chess set rebuilds itself and he has to play through it all over again," Su panted.

"I think we have more pressing problems," Harry gulped.

"You can't be serious," Su screeched. "More pressing than evil Quirrell?"

Harry yanked her out of the way just as the troll's club came down where she'd been standing only moments before.

"Oh," she whimpered, looking up at the monster.

Harry picked up a bit of rubble from the stone that the troll had just smashed and threw it at the other side of the room. Su caught on to his distraction plan, and followed the stone with a mild _sonorous_ charm, so that the sound of it clattering against the floor would echo louder and capture the stupid trolls attention.

It worked, and under some silent agreement, the two eleven-year-olds dashed to the other door, yanking it open and heading inside. As they stepped over the threshold, a fire immediately sprang up behind them. It wasn't an ordinary fire, either: it was purple.

"Better to be safe than sorry," Su muttered, and she began casting the strongest locking charms she knew on the door. They weren't much – only fourth and fifth year level, but they would hopefully slow Quirrell down.

She turned around, Harry was already examining Snape's test and trying to figure out how to get past the black flames on the other side.

"What does the parchment say?" Su asked, peering at the line of bottles on the table.

Harry cleared his throat and read:

_"Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,  
two of us will help you, whichever you would find. _

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,  
another will transport the drinker back instead._

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,  
three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,  
to help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide  
you will always find some on nettle wine's left side._

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,  
but if you would move onward, neither is your friend._

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,  
neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides. _

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right  
are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight."_

He looked at Su, bewildered. "What on earth does that mean?" He asked.

"It's a puzzle," Su told him, taking a deep breath. "Thank you god, for Ravenclaw riddles." With that, she picked up the roll of clues and stepped over to the table, muttering as she tapped each glass.

Finally, she came to a conclusion.

"Here," she grabbed up the smallest bottle. "This one takes us forward." She picked up another bottle at the end of the line, and put it where the first had been.

"What's that one do?" Harry asked.

"It takes us back." She looked over at him. "We need to stall for time as much as we can."

"Why not put one of the poisons there instead?"

Su looked over at the bottles, her stomach twisting.

"I've never killed anyone, Harry, I don't think that I can." She told him, voice soft.

Harry gulped. Right. Death. That was kind of a permanent thing.

"Okay, we'll go into the next room, and then charm the door locked," he told her. "If we can, we barricade it further. Then we pray – pray that someone finds us, and saves us." He took a gulp from the small bottle and offered it to Su, who finished off the second half of it.

It felt like ice was flooding through their veins. Before their nerves failed them, Harry took Su's hand and led her through the black flames. They could see the fire licking up their body, but they couldn't feel the flames.

Moments later, they were on the other side.

* * *

Neville gulped, looking up at the trap door. He couldn't reach it without flying. To fly, he needed a broom. He'd taken one of the brooms from the key-room but…

He hadn't flown since that first lesson… at least, nothing more than a few feet for a few seconds. Truth be told he was terrified of flying, it was right up there on his list of fears, after Professor Snape, Professor Quirrell, three-headed dogs, and dragons.

"I can do this," he told himself. "Harry and Su need me."

He took a deep breath, and pushed off. _Please don't die. Please don't die. Please don't die… _he burst out of the trap door, startling Fluffy awake, but he didn't stop long enough for the dog to get its bearings.

He wrenched open the door and flew down the corridors, looking for a teacher – any teacher – to save his friends.

It was just his luck that he ran into Professor Snape.

"Longbottom! What on earth do you think you're doing? Twenty points from Gryffindor!" Snape scowled at the boy. Obviously Potter was a poor influence.

"Sir! Harry and Su have been kidnapped by Quirrell!" Neville ignored his fear of Snape in favour of more important matters.

"What?"

"He's taken them down the trapdoor in the third-floor corridor!" Neville explained. "I escaped, but he's still got them trapped down there! We need to rescue them!"

"Calm yourself, Longbottom," Snape drawled, flicking a patronus to McGonagall. "Remove yourself to the Hospital Wing. I shall take care of this matter."

Neville had never been so grateful for Snape in all his life, and promptly fainted.

Snape sneered.

"Gryffindors," he sniffed, "they're all bluster and no brains."

McGonagall was there a few minutes later, having used all the shortcuts that she knew of, and then bullied the castle into making a few more.

Kidnapped students! Dumbledore was going to get an earful from her when he came back – this little trap of his was causing unnecessary endangerment!

"Blinky," she called, when she found Snape with an unconscious Longbottom. "Take Mr Longbottom to the Hospital Wing, please." Blinky bowed and obeyed.

"Severus," McGonagall turned to the potions master. "Lead the way. Flitwick will meet us at the corridor."

They swept through the castle, their robes billowing out impressively behind them. Flitwick was, indeed, waiting for them at the door. He renewed the music charm on the harp that Quirrell had left, and when they jumped into the Devil's Snare, he also cast the _solaris_ charm to get them out quickly.

While Flitwick also bypassed his own key-charmed door, Snape and McGonagall were feeling rather put out by how useless they felt. They did expect, however, to get a turn when they caught up to Quirrell.

Kidnapping students indeed.

* * *

Harry gaped at the Mirror of Erised, sitting in the middle of the room. _This_ was the new home that Dumbledore had been talking about? Su didn't waste time gawking, however, and searched the room frantically for another exit.

"I'm sorry, Harry!" she was crying. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm so sorry!"

"Hey, hey!" He grabbed her hands, trying to calm her down. Her panicking wasn't helping anyone. "Calm down, Su."

"I'm sorry," she sobbed again. "Harry, I'm not a Gryffindor. I'm not brave. I fold under pressure – I know that. This is all my fault…"

"SU!" Harry yelled. "This isn't your fault. Be quiet. I need to think."

Su shut up. To tell the truth, she was a bit surprised – Harry wasn't usually so assertive. Maybe panic brought out the natural leader in him?

"We need to get out of here, but Quirrell's blocking the exit. He's after the Philospher's Stone, and he thinks that it's here. Are you absolutely positive that if the Stone is here then it's a fake? I mean – this is a trap, right?"

"I'm positive that this is a trap," Su admitted. "I'm not positive about the realness of the Stone, though. Dumbledore's a little…"

"Mad?" Harry suppled. Su nodded. "Alright. What have we got?"

"Our wands," Su looked around. "The mirror. A little bit of time."

"The mirror…" Harry walked over to it. "What do we want, more than anything at the moment?"

"To get out of here," Su breathed, following Harry. "Maybe the mirror will show us how."

They stood in front of it, and saw themselves pulling up a trapdoor in one of the floor stones behind them, escaping the room just as a reflection-Quirrell walked in. Su gasped, and Harry whirled around, pushing her behind him… but the Quirrell that had entered the room was only in the reflection, and so they relaxed.

"Do you think he's past the troll yet?" Su asked, fingering the bottle in her hand. She'd forgotten to put the potion back when she'd taken it. Quirrell would notice the deception, she was sure.

"I hope not," Harry replied, running over to the floor stone they had seen as a trapdoor in the mirror. "Here, help me."

But no matter how they pulled or pushed, or even tried to levitate it, the stone did not move.

"But the mirror showed us!" Su wailed.

"It lied," Harry told her, voice soft. "It doesn't show us the truth. It only shows us what we want. We can't always get what we want."

"No kidding," Su scoffed.

She reached over and held Harry's hand. "I don't want to die," she whispered.

"We've still got our wands," Harry told her. "We still have a chance. I've been reading that book you got me for Christmas – the hexes and curses and jinxes and stuff. We just have to plan this carefully."

He led her by the hand back behind the mirror, so that they would have some cover if Quirrell came in while they were planning.

"Okay, we need to get rid of Quirrell's advantage," Harry said. "He's older than us, so he's got more magical experience. If we take away his wand, it'll be more even. You know the summoning charm, right? I know the full body-bind. Then we wait for Neville's cavalry to arrive." Su trembled. "Su. I know you're not a Gryffindor. That's okay. But you're braver than you think you are, and I know that you can handle this. You're a Ravenclaw – you're smart – what're our odds here?"

"Well…" Su looked down at the wand in her hand. It would be easier to use the summoning spell with it than without. "I think that if we get his wand away from him, we might just have a chance."

Harry nodded. "Alright. I'll stand in front of the door and keep his attention. You stand behind that pillar beside it, and summon his wand when he's distracted. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Su nodded. They took their positions.

* * *

It took some time for the three teachers to remove the rubble of the passageway between the Key Room and the Chess Room. Much longer than any of them would have liked. The more time passed, the more likely it was that their students might not make it out of the Dark Lord Trap alive.

Quirrell wasn't in the Chess Room, which McGonagall was happy to bypass with a wave of her wand. Neither was he in the Troll Room, although the troll itself had been brutally torn to pieces. The teachers winced.

They entered the Potion Room, just in time to see Quirrell smirking at them, and passing through the flames. Snape hurried to his collection of poisons, potions, and wines… but the phial that would have allowed them to follow Quirrell through the fire was gone.

"He's taken the potion!" Snape shouted, half tempted to throw the table across the room. With great difficulty, he composed himself.

He didn't necessarily _like_ Li or Potter, but he liked Quirrell even less. Besides, he had made a promise, and he intended to keep it.

"Filius, I need your help with these flames."

* * *

Su was so scared she thought she might throw up. _Note to self: avoid basilisk next year as much as possible. Do not let ANYONE get into the Chamber of Secrets._

Harry was standing in front of the mirror, pretending to be looking for a way out… or maybe the stone. In reality, he was keeping an eye out for Quirrell walking through the door – the real Quirrell, not an illusion.

Then the man in the purple turban stepped into the room, his eyes locking immediately on the boy-who-lived. Su held her breath and pressed herself against the pillar, hoping that Quirrell wouldn't see her.

"Harry. Potter." Quirrell sneered. "Looking for an escape? There's no way out of here." He levelled his wand lazily at Harry, who had turned to face his foe.

"_Accio _wand!" Su shouted, breathless with fear. The piece of wood zoomed out of Quirrell's hand. At the same time, Harry raised his own wand.

"_Petrificus Totalus!" _He screamed.

Quirrell froze up, and fell to the floor, landing face first with a sickening crack.

Su didn't stop to check that he was okay. She ran over to Harry, ashamed of herself when she hid behind him, warily watching the body on the floor.

Harry kept his wand trained on the frozen professor, not taking any chances.

"Hopefully someone will be down to help us, soon," he said. "Now, we wait."

Quirrell started laughing – it was a high, delirious cackle. Only… it didn't sound like Quirrell. Suddenly, the professor on the floor leapt to his feet, summoning his wand back with a wave of his hand, and without even saying anything.

Su screamed and dragged Harry behind the mirror.

"Nice try, brats," Quirrell gloated. "But my master has taught me things that you will never learn… even if you weren't about to die. First, however… the Stone."

Harry and Su were standing back to back behind the mirror, watching for Quirrell to appear on either side and attack them… but nothing happened for a few minutes.

"Where is it?" Quirrell hissed. "I see myself presenting the Stone to my master, but where is it hidden? This is one of Dumbledore's _games_ isn't it? Is it in the mirror – do I need to break it? How? How do I get the Stone?"

_"Use the boy…" _another voice whispered, low and menacing.

Su sobbed. Harry shivered. Both tightened their grips on their wands.

"Master, I don't think–"

_"Use the boy!" _

"Who _is_ that?" Harry asked.

Su just shook her head, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes. However, in her moment of distraction, Quirrell darted around the mirror, and snatched at her, pulling her wand out of her hand even as he used her as a human shield from Harry.

"Potter," Quirrell spat. "Look in the mirror, or I'll blow your little girlfriend's head off."

"Let go of me!" Su screamed, kicking and writhing and pinching Quirrell. He tightened the grip of his arm around her throat and she squeaked.

"Shut up," Quirrell hissed. "Potter, do as I say."

Slowly, keeping an eye on Quirrell, with a wand pressing into Su's temple, Harry walked around the mirror, until he was standing in front of it.

"Well?" Quirrell scowled. "What do you see?"

Harry looked into the mirror. What did he want most in the world at that moment? He wanted to rescue Su from the clutches of the evil madman. In the mirror, he saw himself running up to Quirrell and knocking Su out of the way. Mirror-Harry wrapped his hands around Quirrell's throat and squeezed the life out of him.

Harry felt ill. He was angry, and he was scared, but he didn't think that he wanted to _kill_ anyone. Maybe he would just squeeze until Quirrell was unconscious. That would work, wouldn't it?

"What. Do. You. SEE?" Quirrell roared, shaking Su as he did so. She was finding it incredibly difficult to breathe, with his arm pressed on her throat like that.

"I see Su and I standing next to our families," Harry lied. "We've escaped, won medals for defeating you, and we're shaking hands with Dumbledore."

_"He lies…"_ that other voice hissed again. _"Let me talk to the boy."_

Quirrell looked around, seemingly talking to the air: "But Master, you are not strong enough."

_"I have strength enough for this…" _

Quirrell dropped Su, pushing her towards Harry. He still had her wand, but at this point, she didn't think it would make much difference for her. She glanced at the door, wondering if she and Harry could make a break for it before Quirrell decided to just kill them and get it over with.

Quirrell turned his back on them – surely this was the moment to escape – but as he began unwrapping the turban on his head, Su found herself unable to move.

Where there should have been the back of Quirrell's head, there was a face – the most terrible face that either child had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

_"Harry Potter…" _it whispered.

The children trembled.

_"See what I have become?" _the face asked. _"Mere shadow and vapour… I have form only when I share another's body… but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds. Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks… and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own…"_

"Voldemort," Harry breathed. The face smiled.

_"So you've heard of me?"_ Voldemort preened. _"I am glad. To know that you, of all people, Harry Potter, know my name…"_

"Su," Harry said, "you have to get out of here!" He pushed her towards the door, casting the full body bind at Quirrell-Voldemort again.

The professor easily batted the feeble attack aside, even standing with his back to the boy, but Harry had only meant for it to be a distraction. He ran towards the monster that had murdered his parents, and kicked him right between the legs.

Quirrell keened and fell to his knees. Harry took the opportunity to punch Voldemort in the face. The two-faced man – both sides of him – grunted in pain, and Harry took the opportunity to rip Quirrell's wand out of his hands and snap it.

_"Damn you, boy!" _Voldemort shouted, but Harry ignored him, wrapping his arms around Quirrell's throat the way he'd done to Su only minutes before.

"Shut. Up!" Harry shouted back, squeezing. His scar burned with a terrible pain, but he persisted. "Leave my friends alone! You're evil! You're a murderer!"

Quirrell's face was blistering where Harry's hands touched him, though Harry hardly noticed, blinded by his own pain and fury. Su, trapped by the body-bind that Quirrell had reflected, could only watch in horror as Quirrell, for lack of a better description, bubbled and melted in Harry's grip.

"Nooo!" Quirrell howled, clawing desperately at Harry's arms, trying to release himself from imminent death. As Su watched, a terrible smoky spectre rose from Quirrell's body, screaming as it shot through flames and away into the night.

Both Quirrell and Harry slumped to the floor.

It took almost two minutes for the body-bind to wear off, but to Su, it felt like forever. As soon as it had, she rushed over to Harry, ignoring Quirrell's corpse. He was unconscious, his hands badly burned, his scar bleeding.

"Harry," she whispered. "You saved me. Harry, oh please, oh please, oh _please_. You have to be okay! You have to be okay, Harry. You _have _to be…"

She screamed as the wall of flames behind her shot up quickly and then disappeared. She grabbed her wand and, without thinking, shot off as many aggressive spells as she could think of – full-body bind, bat-bogey hex, jelly-legs jinx…

"Calm yourself, Miss Li!" Snape shouted, as he, McGonagall, and Flitwick deflected her attacks. "We're here to save you!"

"Quirrell's dead!" She sobbed. "He was being possessed by Vold- by You-Know-Who. Harry's unconscious. I don't know what's wrong with him!"

"It will be okay, Miss Li," McGonagall shushed the girl, wrapping her up in a hug. Su was too distraught to care how bizarre it was for McGonagall to hug her. "We will take Mr Potter to the Hospital Wing. I'm sure he will make a full recovery…"

McGonagall led the crying girl out of the room. Flitwick floated Harry up and followed her, while Snape was left to deal with Quirrell's corpse.

* * *

Something gold was glinting just above him.

_The snitch!_ Harry thought.

He tried to catch it, and accidentally punched someone in the face.

He blinked, but his vision was blurry. Where were his glasses? He fumbled around for them, his hand finally landing on them on his bedside table. Ramming them onto his nose, Harry found himself sitting face to face with Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's nose was bleeding, Harry noticed, blushing. Oops.

"Not to worry, Harry," Dumbledore smiled, waving his wand at his own face. The bleeding stopped, and the blood disappeared. Harry guessed that the imaginary snitch he'd seen had been the gold rim of Dumbledore's spectacles.

"Professor?"

"Good afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore smiled at him.

Harry stared at him, trying to figure out what was going on. Then he remembered it – everything – the Stone, Quirrell, being kidnapped…

"Sir! Where's Su? And Neville? Are they okay? Are they hurt? What happened to Quirrell? What happened to Voldemort? Did you know that Quirrell was working for him?"

Dumbledore held up a hand to stop all the questions, chuckling.

"Calm yourself, dear boy," he said. "Your friends are at dinner right now, and will be with us shortly. They are both quite healthy, though rather shaken by their experiences. Quirrell is, I regret to tell you, dead."

"Sir–"

"It is not your fault, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted him gently. "His body could not take the strain of being possessed by Voldemort, and when the spectre left him, he succumbed to Death. It was not a pleasant way to die…"

Harry gulped. To distract himself from thoughts of death, he looked around. He was in the Hospital Wing, lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half a sweet shop.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," Dumbledore explained, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons, between yourself, Miss Li, and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret. So, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends, Fred and George Weasley, were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

"How long have I been in here?"

"Three days. Mr Longbottom and Miss Li will be most relieved to see you have come round. They've hardly left your side, except for when Poppy forces them to eat."

"What… what happened? Why did I pass out?"

Dumbledore regarded him with serious eyes for a moment, before sighing.

"When Voldemort confronted you as a child, your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realise that a love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign… to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will five us some protection forever. It is in your skin, in your very blood. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

"But why…" Harry frowned. He was just so confused. "Why did Voldemort go after me in the first place though? Why did he kidnap me? Why does he want to kill _me_? Please, sir, I just want to know the truth."

"The truth," Dumbledore murmured, looking forlorn, "the truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. There are some things that you are just not ready to know, Harry."

Harry opened his mouth to protest – he'd nearly died! Voldemort was after _him_. Didn't he deserve to at least know _why_? Couldn't he have a reason for being famous? Why would _anyone_ try to kill a child?

"Voldemort is still out there," Dumbledore said, distracting Harry from his anger. "Now that I've convinced Nicholas to destroy the Stone, one avenue of return has been closed to him. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share… not really being alive; he cannot really be killed, either. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may have only delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems to be a losing battle next time… and if he is delayed again, why, he may never return to power."

Harry had no idea what that meant, but nodded anyway.

Thank goodness Su and Neville chose that moment to appear. He didn't think that he could take any more of Dumbledore's cryptic wisdom. It was giving him a headache.

"Harry! You're alive!" Su beamed at him, throwing her arms around him and smothering him with hugs, Neville on his other side. Neither of them had paid much attention to Dumbledore, who winked at Harry and then left quietly.

Su turned around, however, and glared at the Headmaster's back.

"Bet he made some deep and mysterious speech about the 'power of love and friendship'," she muttered.

Harry laughed. "Actually, he did." He explained to them about Dumbledore's theory of why Quirrell died and why he survived the Killing Curse the night Voldemort attacked.

"But Harry," Neville frowned. "Your mum can't be the only one who sacrificed herself for her kids! It's been happening for centuries – mothers are famous for it."

"I agree," Su nodded. "There's something more at play here."

"Dumbledore wouldn't tell me why Voldemort – sorry Neville – why Darth Volder was after me, either," Harry said. "He changed the subject when I brought it up. Something about the truth being a strange and terrible thing."

Su and Neville snorted. "That's ridiculous," she said. "He's just trying to make himself seem all wise and mysterious. It's not like_ he_ was there to save us when we went down there. It was his fault anyway, keeping something like the Philosopher's Stone in the castle anyway."

"Oh, the Stone's getting destroyed, apparently," Harry remembered, "Dumbledore convinced Nicholas Flamel to get rid of it."

Su's scowl darkened. "Bossing everyone around, who does he think he is?" She continued muttering under her breath, picking up a wrapped chocolate, and tearing the paper wrapping to shreds.

"She's bitter because she's still scared," Neville whispered in Harry's ear. "I don't know what she saw down there with you, but it's shaken her. She's all jumpy – almost hexed me when I tapped her on the shoulder yesterday."

"I don't blame her," Harry admitted. "It was pretty terrifying…" he trailed off, looking around for Madam Pomfrey or anyone else who might be listening. "Look, I think… I think Dumbledore almost meant for that to happen."

"What?" Neville squeaked. Su stopped shredding the paper to look up at him.

"Well, maybe not _exactly_ that," Harry admitted. "But I think he gave me the invisibility cloak – something he said to me when he told me not to look in the Mirror again – and the Mirror… why was it just sitting around, waiting to be found, just when he'd given me the cloak? I think he wanted me to see it. And Hagrid, he couldn't keep secret what the Stone was or anything – why did Dumbledore tell him about it if he wanted to keep it a secret? There were all these clues to what was going on… someone going after the stone… I don't know if he meant for us to get kidnapped, but I think he might have wanted me at least to face Darth Volder."

"Why?" Neville asked.

"Hero-training," Su whispered angrily. "Bet he's trying to groom Harry into some kind of Dark-Lord-Defeater. I mean, he's already done it once, so why not drum him up to do it again and again? And if he's got some sort of immunity to the killing curse, even better. Harry's like a ready-made soldier."

"That makes a terrible kind of sense," Harry gaped. Su nodded glumly, and then her expression became determined.

"Harry, Neville," she said. "If that's really what Dumbledore's doing, and he's started when Harry's only eleven, I don't think he's going to stop any time soon. We have to prepare ourselves – we don't want to get caught out like we were this year. Even if Dumbledore isn't trying to turn Harry into some kind of wizarding champion, Voldemort still clearly has it out for him, and as Harry's best friends, we'll be in the crossfire."

"You're saying we have to train ourselves?" Neville asked. Su nodded.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," she glowered at the Chocolate Frog card she'd picked up – Dumbledore. "I'm not going to let myself be a victim again."

* * *

"I want to go to the feast," Harry told Madam Pomfrey, a day later. "I can, can't I?"

"Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go," she said stiffly, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore didn't realise how risky feasts could be. "And you have another visitor."

"Oh, good," Harry sighed, having been lonely since Madam Pomfrey had ushered Su and Neville out of the Hospital Wing. "Who is it?"

Hagrid sidled through the door, and Madam Pomfrey walked off. As was usual when he was indoors, Hagrid dwarfed everything around him. He sat next to Harry, took one look at him, and burst into tears.

"It's – all – my – ruddy – fault!" He wailed, his face in his hands. "I told the evil git how to get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn't know, an' I told him! Yeh could've died! All fer a dragon egg! I'll never drink again! I should be chucked out and made to live as a muggle!"

Harry had no idea what Hagrid was on about.

"Hagrid!" he shouted, shocked to see his friend so distraught. "Hagrid, this is Voldemort we're talking about. It's not your fault. He's just evil like that."

"Yeh could've died!" Hagrid wailed again. "An' don't say the name!"

"VODLEMORT!" Harry bellowed, startling Hagrid so much that he stopped crying. "Voldemort is just a name, Hagrid," he said, "I could have died, yes. But I didn't. I'm still here, okay? Everything will be all right. Have a Chocolate Frog, I've got loads…"

Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

"Thanks, Harry," he said, taking the Chocolate Frog. "That reminds me. I've got yeh a present. Fer yer birthday. Bit early, I know, but still…"

"It's not a stoat sandwich, is it?" Harry joked, and at last Hagrid gave a weak chuckle.

"Nah, 's better than that."

Hagrid pulled the present out of his pocket and handed it to Harry. It seemed to be a handsome, leather-bound book. Harry opened it curiously… it was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page were his mother, and his father, and some other men and women who must have been their friends.

"I sent owls off ter all your parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos… knew yeh didn't have any… d'yeh like it?"

Harry couldn't speak, only smile through his tears. Hagrid grinned back.

Later, Harry made his way down to the end-of-year feast alone. He had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing, and forced to submit to a last-minute check up. By the time he made it to the Great Hall, it was already full.

It was decked out in the Slytherin colours of green and silver, to celebrate Slytherin's winning of the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner bearing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.

When Harry walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly all at once. Harry waved to Su, sitting at the Ravenclaw table, and then took a seat between Neville and the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table, trying to ignore all the people whispering and staring at him.

Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later. The babble died away.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore announced cheerfully. "What a year it has been. Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were when you began… and you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…

Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: in fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three-hundred and fifty-two points; third place, Ravenclaw, with four-hundred and twenty-six points; second place, Gryffindor, with four hundred and twelve points; and in first place, Slytherin, with four hundred and seventy two points!"

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Harry saluted Blaise Zabini, who was looking very pleased. Zabini raised his goblet to Harry in return.

Su was sitting at Ravenclaw, praying that what had happened in the book would not happen here. _Please don't award last minute points! I don't want to be praised for being kidnapped! Oh please, oh please, oh please…_

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore hummed. "However… recent events must be taken into account."

Su couldn't take it. She stood up, and walked out of the hall – to everyone's surprise. Even Dumbledore was startled into speechlessness. Harry and Neville exchanged glances, before standing up and running after their friend, wondering what was wrong.

Behind them, the student population erupted in whispers and speculations.

Harry and Neville found Su hyperventilating in the far corner of the Entrance Hall. She was sitting down, because her knees had been shaking so badly they wouldn't hold her up anymore.

"Su?" Harry asked, kneeling next to her. "What's wrong?"

"Dumbledore was about to award us points for surviving an encounter with a madman," she hissed, both angry and horrified. "I don't want to sit there while he alienates the entire Slytherin population. We were just in the wrong place in the wrong time… we were even out past curfew! I just… I didn't… I can't…"

She couldn't think straight. She wasn't even sure what she was talking about at this point. She just knew that she didn't want to be in that hall any longer.

"Su, what are you talking about?" Neville asked.

She just shook her head and started crying. Her friends stayed there with her, each with a hand on her shoulder. McGonagall found them sitting there, a few minutes later.

"Miss Li, are you quite all right?" She asked.

Su took a deep breath. "I will be, I think," she said. "I'm just a little overwhelmed, that's all. There were so many people in there… and they were staring at me… I couldn't handle it. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, dear," McGonagall assured her. "Why don't you go eat in the kitchens with Mr Potter and Mr Longbottom? I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would understand. Do you know how to get to the kitchens?"

The trio nodded.

"Well then," McGonagall smiled. "Off you go. Be sure to return to your common room before curfew, though."

"We will," Neville promised.

* * *

They later found out that after their disruptive exit from the Great Hall, Dumbledore had forgotten what his speech was about, so Slytherin had still won the house cup.

The next day, everyone received their exam results – which the trio had forgotten in all the excitement of, you know, getting kidnapped and almost dying.

To their great surprise, both Harry and Neville had passed with good marks; Neville did exceptionally well in Herbology, while Harry excelled in Transfigurations and Potions – though his Potions grade had only barely scraped into an O.

Hermione Granger had received the best marks of all first years, but Su had beaten her in both Potions and Charms. The two had bantered amicably about the results, Su promising to top Granger the next year, and Granger inviting her to bring it on.

Before they knew it, their wardrobes were empty and their trunks were packed. Notes were handed out to all the students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays (I always hope they'll forget to give us these," moaned Fred Weasley).

In no time at all, they had climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express, talking and laughing as they made their way home, and finally drawing up at Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

"Bye Harry! I'll write you, I promise!" Neville shouted, waving at them. "Bye Su!"

"Bye!" Neville disappeared beyond the barrier with his Gran.

Harry and Su had trouble staying together as they were jostled through the barrier alongside all their classmates and their families.

"Bye, Harry!"

"See you, Potter!"

Half the people Harry waved to he had never even spoken to. When he told Su this, she laughed at him.

"The price of fame," she said.

"Why aren't people saying goodbye to you?" He asked. "You were there with Quirrell, too."

"Harry, you were the one who actually did all the work," she told him. "I was largely useless. Plus, you're famous already; so all the rumours are that you did everything by yourself. Neville and I just don't stand out us much as you do."

"You weren't useless," Harry protested. "You got our wands, and figured out the potion riddle. If it weren't for you, I'd be dead."

"Yeah, well…" she shrugged, blushing.

"Harry! Su!" The Weasley twins showed up behind them, wearing identical mischievous grins. "We've got someone who wants to meet you!"

"Mum! It's Harry Potter! Mum!"

It was Mrs Weasley, with her daughter at her side, pointing excitedly at Harry.

"It's rude to point, Ginny," Mrs Weasley scolded lightly, before smiling down at Harry and Su. "It's so nice to meet you both, the boys have been writing about you all year!"

"Really?" Harry glanced up at the twins. "That's nice. I wanted to thank you for the fudge and the jumper, Mrs Weasley. I loved them."

"Me too," Su offered up. "The colour's wonderful."

"Oh, it was nothing, dears," Mrs Weasley waved them off, blushing. "It was my pleasure, really. Just to let you know, if you ever want to visit over the summer, you're welcome to stay! The more the merrier, you know."

"Hurry up, boy!" Harry's thanks were interrupted by the untimely appearance of Uncle Vernon, purple faced and very round. Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of Harry.

"You must be Harry's family!" Mrs Weasley beamed at them. The Dursleys shrunk back from her, as if magic were a contagious disease.

"In a manner of speaking," Uncle Vernon grunted. "Hurry up, boy! We haven't got all day." He walked away with Petunia and Dudley.

Harry hung back for a few last goodbyes.

"I'll write you," he told the Weasleys, waving at them as they shuffled off. They beamed at him, the twins ruffling his hair, and Mrs Weasley wrapping him up in a big, warm hug.

Then it was just Su and him, alone in the crowd.

"You don't have to go with them," she told him quietly. "How they treat you… it's not right. You don't have to put up with that, Harry."

"Where else would I go?"

"Mrs Weasley would take you in. I'm sure I could ask Aunt Bea and Uncle Nate. They'd be glad to help you." Harry shook his head.

"I couldn't do that," he said. "I don't want to be a burden."

Su almost said that Harry was a burden for the Dursleys… but it wasn't something that he ever needed to hear. Instead, she threw her arms around him, wrapping him up in a tight hug.

He was so much more to her now than just a boy from a story – a fairytale hero that couldn't be touched in reality. He was her friend – her best friend – and she was going to miss him so, so much.

"I'll come visit you," she promised. Harry nodded, and then trotted away, chasing after the Dursleys so that they wouldn't leave him stranded at the station.

Su watched him go, her heart clenching. She hoped he'd be okay…

"Su?" She turned around, and there, standing in front of her, were Beatrice and Nathan. They were smiling at her uncertainly – well, she hadn't replied to any of their letters since Christmas, so it was understandable.

They were rather surprised when she threw herself into their arms, so incredibly relieved to see them that it wasn't funny.

"Su, what's been going on?" Nathan asked. "We got a letter from McGonagall saying that you'd been fighting a teacher, and that you were in the hospital… and then Amelia Bones wrote us about a boggart in October… your grades are fantastic, by the way, we're very proud… Su, what's been going on?"

"It's a long story," she told them, but she wasn't really listening, too fascinated by the bundle of cloth in Beatrice's arms. Her adoptive parents blushed.

"Right, that," Nathan coughed. "Well, we were going to tell you at Christmas… and then Easter… but you never came home. It's really the sort of thing you have to say to someone's face. She was born last month – Su, this is your little sister… er, sort of."

Beatrice smiled. "Her name is Jasmine. Would you like to hold her?"

Su nodded, holding her breath as the tiny baby was placed in her arms.

"Gorgeous," Nathan breathed. "All my girls, together. I love you all so much."

"I love you guys too," murmured Su, almost too happy for words.

Nathan nodded. "Right. Well. When we get home, you'll have to tell us that long story."

Su sighed. "All right. I promise."

Beatrice sighed. "I hope your second year will be far less eventful."

Su doubted it.

* * *

**A/N:** _END OF FIRST YEAR! YAY! About the points: because there was no Norbert Fiasco, Gryffindor did not lose 150 points, so they weren't bottom of the rankings. Dumbledore was totally about to screw the Slytherins over, but was so surprised by Su's dramatic exit that he forgot to. _

_Su and the Li's have terrible communication skills. Not gonna lie. None of them seem to have the ability to write letters about majorly important events. _

_A sequel will appear at some point. Probably soon. Be prepared for basilisks and creepy diaries and annoying Lockharts. And Dobby. _

_As always; please review to tell me what you think!_


	15. Epilogue: In Another Life

**Author's Note:** _Re-Re-Extended Epilogue. Now officially finished. _

_This is my version of what Su was doing in canon, behind the scenes. I'll do a chapter like this at the end of every 'year', and her adventures will run parallel of canon!Harry's with a different group of friends and actions etc. As well as her own actions that _don't_ revolve around Harry and so on. _

* * *

**~ In Another Life ~**

She turned away from the Boy-Who-Lived and towards Flourish and Blotts. It took her four hours to find all of her school textbooks, and to choose some wider reading for her free time. Higher level potions books, books on Ancient Runes and Arithmancy… and a book on the Veil and all its associated stories.

"You sure about that?" Nathan asked, eyeing the book warily. "It's not a happy book."

"I need to know," she told him. "I want to learn."

She very deliberately avoided thinking about Harry Potter for the rest of the summer, which meant that she thought about him a great deal. She decided that, so long as her actions did not change predetermined events, she could live a full life… and find out what happened next. She only had to wait four years.

* * *

She arrived at Platform Nine and Three Quarters as early as possible, and found, for herself an empty compartment near the front of the train, remembering that Harry Potter had taken one at the back in his first year.

Soon afterwards a group of first years shuffled into the compartment; a pug-faced girl with black hair and a girl too heavyset for comfort, more gorilla than child. They ignored Su with a superior sniff, and turned their faces away from her.

Two other girls, both blonde and petite, joined them soon after – introducing themselves to Su (as they already knew the other girls, Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode) as Sally-Anne Perks and Daphne Greengrass.

They spoke to Su for a while about her Potions book, both anticipating their classes with Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House and –

"My godfather," interrupted a high and imperious voice. The voice belonged to a boy, with a narrow, pointed face and long white blond hair braided down his back with a silk ribbon. Two boys flanked him on either side their age, just as heavyset and dull-looking as the pug-faced girl's companion.

This was Draco Malfoy and his cronies, Su imagined.

"That's nice for you," she told him mildly, and said no more, turning back to her conversation with Daphne and Sally-Anne, who were exchanging amused glances.

Malfoy appeared affronted, but squeezed into the compartment to talk to Pansy and Millicent about his summer, before discussions turned to school Houses.

"We're all destined for Slytherin of course," Malfoy sniffed.

"I might be in Ravenclaw," Sally-Anne murmured. "That's not so bad."

"And you?" Malfoy drawled, peering at Su. "Where do you think you'll go?"

"Ravenclaw, I suppose, or Slytherin, perhaps. Not Gryffindor. I'm not a brave person." She did not mention that Harry Potter would be in Gryffindor. She had already decided that she would keep her distance from him. It was safer that way. For everyone.

"Gryffindors," Malfoy sneered. "They think they're better than everyone else, strutting about the halls because they have no respect for proper authority."

"Sounds like you'd fit right in," Su told him.

Malfoy glared at her. Whatever retort he was preparing was interrupted by the arrival of a tall black boy, handsome in a dangerously feline way – he very much reminded Su of a small panther, with his sharp-toothed grin and lithe grace.

"Have you heard?" The boy asked, without preamble, dropping into the seat beside Su, opposite Daphne and Sally-Anne. "Harry Potter's on the train. Some Weasleys spotted him, way down the back. He doesn't look like much. Kind of skinny."

Malfoy's reply was interrupted once again by the door of the compartment sliding open, revealing a chubby, round-faced boy in the doorway.

"Has anyone seen a toad?" He asked, and Su guessed that this must be Neville Longbottom, who, thus far, most resembled his movie counterpart.

Malfoy sneered, and Millicent and Pansy snickered at the boy's distress.

"A toad, Longbottom?" Malfoy drawled. "How dreadful. You know, it might be for the best that the thing falls beneath the train. It'll put us all out of our misery."

Neville's face fell, and he retreated from the compartment, while Su scowled at Malfoy.

"You," she said to him, "are a thoroughly unpleasant character. Slytherins are supposed to be _ambitious_ and _cunning_ – not _arrogant_ and _outspoken_. Aren't those traits you'd associate with Gryffindors? Honestly, don't you think? Friends are easier to use than enemies. Enemies just mean trouble."

"How dare you?" Malfoy gasped, indignant, as Blaise, Daphne, and Sally-Anne attempted to cover their smirks. "Do you know who I am? My father could–"

"I was unaware that your father inserted himself into the business of children," Su sniffed, growing more and more unimpressed by the minute. This was the boy that Harry considered his greatest rival in school? What low standards.

"Leave," growled Malfoy. "Or else."

"Gladly," Su stood, gathering her books and her bag. "I'll be off to find myself company of a higher degree of intelligence. Daphne, Sally-Anne, Blaise, it's been a pleasure."

As she swept out of the compartment she could hear Pansy saying behind her;

"What a horrid, nasty creature. Drakey-poo, you're not to listen to her."

"Don't call me that, Pansy," Malfoy sneered.

Su found herself in a compartment with Parvati and Padma Patil, who were sitting with Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Lavender Brown. She, Padma, and Susan were soon discussing what their favourite classes might be, and speculation over what might be for dinner. Well, they were very hungry.

They continued to hear rumours that Harry Potter was on the train, but Su feigned disinterest – and besides, celebrities probably valued their privacy.

* * *

Their first view of the castle was magnificent, all lights and towers and turrets, set against a backdrop of stars it looked like something out of a fairytale. Su wasn't sure if she was happy or frightened that this particular fairytale was very, very real.

She found McGonagall to fit her description of 'stern teacher' quite perfectly, and ignored all the worried chatter about what the sorting test might entail, trying to imagine what house she'd be in.

She did think that she was perhaps cunning enough to be in Slytherin, but really didn't want to share a house with Draco Malfoy. She certainly wasn't brave enough for Gryffindor, so that left Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

Considering all her studies over the summer, it seemed a fair bet that she would be dressing in bronze and blue for the next seven years of her life.

Su was startled when the Sorting Hat started singing – had it done that in the books? She couldn't remember. Surely not… she racked her brain but couldn't recall. Strange.

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still. Su was still rather bemused by the singing hat, and wondered vaguely if it spent all year thinking of a song, or if this was a rare happenstance. She still couldn't remember it ever singing in the books.

In all fairness, she decided, she hadn't read the first one in some time.

Hannah and Susan went to Hufflepuff. Lavender Brown became a Gryffindor. Soon enough it was her turn – she tried to ignore all the people staring at her. Crowds made her so nervous. It was part of the reason she'd never done well in gymnastics competitions.

"Li, Su!"

She wasn't worried about the sorting, but the crowd terrified her. Her knees shook as she walked towards the stool, and she was grateful for the darkness that enveloped her when McGonagall dropped the hat on her head.

The hat mused for a minute or two, commenting on her cleverness, her supposed hidden bravery, her cunning and her ambition… very clearly, Su outlined her reasons for being in Ravenclaw, and, eventually, the Hat agreed – though it did believe she'd make a good Slytherin, with all her plotting to help out the hero without upsetting the plot.

She soon found herself joined by Padma and Sally-Anne and they chatted amiably until Harry Potter's name was called up. Su pulled out her book and concentrated on the page rather than stare at the poor boy. This earned her a very firm reputation as a dedicated Ravenclaw, and most of her housemates were unsure whether they were impressed with her studiousness, or disturbed by her disinterest in the wizarding world's hero.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Harry wince at his reaction to Purple-Turban-Voldemort and Snape's intensified glare. She wondered if there was more depth to the sour professor than there appeared to be in the novels. He had always seemed rather one-dimensional to her, cruel for the sake of having a decoy-antagonist for Harry and his friends. Perhaps Snape was not so bad. Perhaps he was worse.

Sooner or later she'd find out, she supposed.

She was puzzled over the existence of the school song. She honestly didn't remember this much singing going on in the books, and wondered if it was a detail that Rowling had glossed over, forgotten, or simply not deemed important.

Or – and this thought terrified her – what if this universe was developing beyond what Rowling had imagined? What if, by existing, Su had altered the very fabric of the universe? What if next, beyond songs and singing hats, she accidentally launched a plague, or an influx of dementors?

She felt rather faint at the thought.

Finally, after a few odd words about music being magic, Dumbledore dismissed them all to bed. She followed Padma and Sally-Anne, who followed a prefect named Penelope Clearwater up a different flight of stairs to Ravenclaw tower, and was surprised that, rather than a password, Ravenclaw's common room required one to answer a riddle.

Anyone who could answer the riddle and enter would be an honorary Ravenclaw, because this house rivalry business was silly, if it excluded others who wanted to learn even if they wore a different colour.

She followed Padma Patil into the dormitory, and found that her trunk had already been set at a bed next to a window, with Padma on one side, and Sally-Anne on the other. The girls smiled at each other, but were too tired for conversation, and quickly got changed and then went straight to bed. Su clutched her pillow, still worrying about breaking the universe, but she eventually managed to get to sleep.

* * *

Su found herself immersed in her new life at Hogwarts, caught up in the studies of fascinating histories, not-so-mythical-creatures, and, of course, magic.

She was glad that Sally-Anne and Padma were in her house – they were nice, and, she hoped, potential friends. She found that, if she threw herself into her studies and into exploring the wider wizarding world, she was not as preoccupied with the development of Harry Potter's story as she thought she might have been.

Before she knew it, a week had passed, and her first Potions lesson – a double with the Hufflepuffs – came up. She sat with Sally-Anne, while Padma paired off with Lisa Turpin, and they all waited for Snape to arrive.

He burst into the room, the door banging loudly against the wall, causing the whole class to jump. Snape sneered at them, and strode into the room, his dark robes billowing behind him theatrically. He certainly looked very impressive and intimidating.

He began the class with a gruff speech on the wonders of potion brewing, and a disparaging comment about the intelligence of most of his students, though his disdain seemed to be aimed more at the Hufflepuffs than the Ravenclaws.

Their first assigned potion was a Boils Cure, a fairly simple potion that – nevertheless – was a little dangerous, considering the instability of mixing porcupine quills with daffodil petals… Su had never expected daffodil petals to be so volatile. Honest.

Snape himself swept around the room, criticizing and correcting almost everyone on their techniques on everything from weighing nettles to crushing snake fangs. Su preened when Snape praised her neat slicing of her horned slugs, and her use of a granite knife to crush the snake fangs instead of silver – she was happy that her summer lessons with Nathan and Beatrice had paid off so well.

By the end of the class, she and Sally-Anne had a perfect potion, earning five points for Ravenclaw. Padma and Lisa behind them had created a 'passable' potion as well, earning one point each. The Hufflepuffs had not succeeded so well, but none of them lost points either. It was, all in all, a fairly decent class.

Snape finished the lesson by lecturing them on the importance of properly preparing their ingredients – as Su and Sally-Anne had done – and the way that quality ingredients produced quality potions, and demanded essays on the topic due in the next week.

At dinner, Su had boasted to Cho about her achievement in Potions, impressing her adopted-cousin, and had agreed to share with her the book that had helped her so much in potions – _Potent Potions: First Steps and Preparations_.

Later, when Neville Longbottom accidentally blew up half the Gryffindor-Slytherin Potions class, Su went to visit him in the hospital wing, remembering him from the train. He'd never been very prominent in the books, but she had liked him all the same – sweet and soft spoken and kind.

"Don't stay too long, Miss Li," Madam Pomfrey had looked at her sternly. Su nodded and was lead to the bed where Neville was wrapped up in bandages, but looked a lot healthier than Su had expected – magic really was marvellous.

"Hello, Neville, are you alright?"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" he blinked at her, and Su blushed.

"We met briefly, on the train," she said. "I… I heard about what happened in Potions. I wanted to see if you were okay. And… well… I'm pretty good at Potions. I could help you, if you wanted."

"Why?" Neville seemed baffled, and Su was hurt by his distrust.

"Can't I just offer help to someone? If you don't want to be friends, that's fine," she sniffed. "I know that some people don't really mix with other houses–"

"That's not what I meant!" Neville protested, wincing as he shifted against his injuries. "I just… no one's really, er, gone out of their way for me, before. I don't have many friends."

Su was quiet for a moment, thinking on that. Harry and Ron had paired up, and Hermione would probably join them after Halloween. Dean and Seamus were already thick as thieves… who did Neville have?

"You can be my friend," Su whispered. "I think you're very nice – I saw you holding a door open for Hannah Abbot when her hands were too full, and when you got lost on Thursday, you were very polite to the portraits you asked directions from… I don't know… there's not really anyone like you around these days. People too caught up in their own selves to notice other people."

Neville blushed. "I'm not really all that special," he mumbled.

"Maybe you are, and you just don't know it yet."

"Well… I'm pretty good at Herbology," he said at last. "Maybe we could help each other?"

Su grinned. "I'd like that."

* * *

Neither Daphne nor Sally-Anne protested the new addition to their little study group; Su had not expected Padma to, as a half-blood not involved in politics, but had worried slightly about Sally-Anne and Daphne, whose families generally ran in the more elite pureblood circles.

They had shrugged when Neville had first arrived with her at the table they used in the library, where Padma, Sally-Anne, Daphne, Lisa, Blaise, and Theodore Nott were already seated. Longbottom was an old name and in the war they hadn't been so much pro-muggle as they'd been anti-Voldemort, so it was no skin off their noses if he studied with them.

"Now all we need is a Hufflepuff, and our multi-house collection will be complete," Padma had grinned. Someone snorted at that, but Su couldn't tell if it had been Lisa Turpin or Theodore Nott, sitting opposite each other at the end of the table.

"Have you heard?" Sally-Anne began conversationally, as she and Su began work on their Potions essay. "Pansy and Millicent have decided to make you into their nemesis. They didn't like it when you insulted Malfoy on the train."

"Really?" Su blinked. "How odd. Is it some sort of tradition to get a rival when you arrive at Hogwarts? I know that Potter and Weasley are at odds with Malfoy, too. And then there's the whole Flint-Wood rivalry, but I think that's more Quidditch based…"

Daphne shook her head. "It's less about rivalry, and more about pride. You showed them up, and they weren't happy about it. Be careful Su."

Su shook her head. "Some people are just so strange…"

In hindsight, she probably should have taken Daphne's warning a little more seriously. Having her hair turned blue was not so bad, but having to visit the hospital wing every other day after falling down a flight of stairs or being shoved unceremoniously into a broom closet… well. She made sure to be extra careful around Parkinson and Bulstrode, but she was not as constantly vigilant as Mad-Eye Moody would have liked.

The morning of the first-years first flying lesson, Su had 'slipped' down the stairs on the way to the Great Hall and ended up in Hospital Wing for the day, missing both Potter-Malfoy confrontations in the hall and in the air.

Neville had arrived in the Hospital Wing in the afternoon, cradling his broken wrist, and he and Su had agreed to beware all Slytherins for the foreseeable future. It didn't help when, later, Daphne revealed that Parkinson and Bulstrode had apparently been behind the jinxing of Neville's broom – with the assistance of a few older Slytherins.

The plan had supposedly been to humiliate Su for her inability to fly, one of the most basic skills in the wizarding world, but they had been thwarted by their own eagerness to dispense 'justice' or 'revenge' and Su had not been available to fall victim to their plot.

"That's it," Su growled, glaring at her broken leg and Neville's broken wrist. "I've had enough. It's time for a little payback."

Daphne grinned. "What've you got in mind?"

* * *

When Parkinson and Bulstrode had spent the next week with their hair glowing red and gold, most people just assumed that it had been the Weasley twins behind the prank – and the two Gryffindors had not denied it.

Su had been inspired by her own hair-change, and had worked with Daphne and Sally-Anne to tweak the potion for the colours, and to stop a teacher from just transfiguring their hair back to normal as McGonagall had done for Su.

The effects faded after a week, but a week had been enough. Parkinson and Bulstrode decided to lay low for a while, and Su had decided to improve her defence skills just in case the two Slytherins were doing their own research into jinxes and curses.

When Neville told them about Malfoy challenging Potter to a wizard's duel everyone had laughed, especially when Neville had expressed his confusion.

"How are first years supposed to compete in a wizard's duel? What's Harry going to do, transfigure a match into a needle and throw it Malfoy's eye?"

Su had laughed. "I hope so." Thinking of it like that, it was almost too bad that Malfoy's wizard duel had only been a prank to get harry and Ron in trouble with Filch. She couldn't remember if this was the moment that Harry got detention, or if he just stumbled onto Fluffy with Ron. Probably the latter, right?

She had other problems though, her homework was going missing with alarming frequency and she had no idea who was behind it. Or, she had an idea, but she didn't know how Parkinson and Bulstrode were managing to achieve it. Unless they had a spy in Ravenclaw…

She hoped not. It would be so hurtful to discover that someone she trusted had been using her all along. She only hoped that Sally-Anne was not behind it, though the disdain that Sally-Anne and Daphne had for Parkinson and Bulstrode indicated that it was unlikely.

Two weeks later she accidentally walked in on Lisa Turpin rifling through her school bag. Her fellow Ravenclaw had tried to pass it off as merely looking for a quill to borrow, but Su saw the parchment that had been hastily stuffed into Lisa's pocket.

Before her friend – had they really ever been friends? – could protest, Su had walked over and plucked her almost complete Potions essay out of Lisa's robes.

"How could you?" She asked. Lisa had no reply.

* * *

Lisa received several detentions from a very disappointed Flitwick. Sally-Anne and Daphne were more inclined to plot revenge instead.

"I can't believe that she did that! For money!" Sally-Anne huffed.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "That's why you're in Ravenclaw and not Slytherin," she said.

Sally-Anne pulled a face, but they all knew it was true.

Su glared at the wall. "Parkinson and Bulstrode aren't fond of spiders, are they?"

"Nobody's fond of spiders, Su," Padma informed her.

"I may have read about a little illusion spell in a book somewhere…" Su trailed off, raising her eyebrows at two best friends. They grinned.

"Teach us."

* * *

Parkinson and Bulstrode generally stayed out of their way after that, flinching every time Su raised her wand and smirked at them. The spider-illusion only lasted for a few minutes at most, but it was enough to thoroughly discourage both girls from continuing their little rivalry with Su.

Halloween came and went, with Potter and Weasley chasing after Granger and the troll. Su made sure to mention to Professor McGonagall that she'd heard some troll-like noises on the fourth floor near the girls toilets – shouldn't that be investigated?

She was relieved to hear that the trio would be okay – she knew that everything was happening as it had in the books… but sometimes she worried.

Time passed peacefully for a while – she studied with Padma, Sally-Anne, Daphne, and Neville, and sometimes Blaise joined them, though Theo did not accompany him as often as he had. Blaise congratulated Su on expert handling of Parkinson and Bulstrode.

"Why aren't you in Slytherin?" He asked.

"Because I look better in blue," she replied. "Besides, would I really want to share a dungeon with Malfoy and his merry band of cronies? I think not."

At Harry Potter's first Quidditch match, she followed all her schoolmates to the stands. She kept half her attention on her book on Ancient Runes, and the other half on Harry Potter. When Hermione Granger ran over to set Professor Snape's robes on fire, Su sent a tripping jinx towards the Gryffindor, so that she'd tumble over Professor Quirrell as well.

Harry won the match of course, and Su felt rather smug about the way she'd been helping the plot move along, even in the background. She wondered if this was how Dumbledore felt, manipulating events towards 'the Greater Good'…

"Oh, sorry," Hermione blushed as she stumbled over Su's chair in the library.

"That's all right," Su smiled. "Are you looking for something to read?"

"Yes, actually," Hermione grinned – and she'd always been better at relating to Ravenclaws than Gryffindors. Su still didn't understand that sorting decision, aside from giving Harry-of-the-Novels access to the necessary 'smart-best-friend'.

"Here, try this," she pulled out a book on alchemy she'd been reading. It was quite thick, but also very interesting. There was also a comprehensive chapter on Nicholas Flamel and his famous Philosopher's Stone. "It's fascinating."

"Thank you," Hermione had smiled, and they had parted.

Su settled back in her chair, smirking. Yep, being the backstage mastermind was _brilliant_.

* * *

"Welcome back, Su!" Nathan gathered her into his arms when she jumped off the train at Platform Nine and Three Quarters. "I'm so glad to see you! Beatrice and I have some exciting news for you!" He ushered her towards her 'Aunt', who gave her a hug as well. "We weren't expecting it – I mean, _I _was hoping for it, but it was still a surprise – and Madam Locke's already cleared us up until Summer, and we've been thinking of names, and I was thinking some sort of flower – Lily, or Rose, or Jasmine…"

"Nathan," Beatrice smiled, and put a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder. "Breathe."

"Sorry," Nathan grinned sheepishly, stepping back.

"Su, we'd like to tell you," Beatrice glanced at Nathan, and he beamed, "you might become a big sister some time soon."

"What?" Su stepped back, confused, and Beatrice's smile grew wider.

"I'm pregnant," she said. "A baby girl. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Congratulations," Su said, smiling, and hugged her adoptive parents again, so that they wouldn't see how frozen her expression had become. She remembered hearing those same words before Jo was born – her parents had taken her and Kwon aside and told them that they would soon have another sibling…

It hurt, to tell the truth, and when they had apparated back to Wiltshire, Su had locked herself in her room, citing a need to do 'holiday homework'.

When she was sure that Nathan and Beatrice were otherwise occupied, she curled up on her bed and cried. She missed her family. Their absence was like a great, gaping wound in her chest. This was not the first Christmas that she had been separated from them, but the loss of her family was still a raw and gaping wound.

She told Nathan and Beatrice about school – about Daphne, and Padma, and Sally-Anne. They'd asked about Harry Potter – curious about the 'Boy-Who-Lived', and she had told them what she knew; that he was nice enough, a very talented flier and Seeker, and best friends with a Weasley and a know-it-all muggle-born.

Beatrice teased her about her competitiveness when she revealed that Hermione was one of the best students in the year, outshining several Ravenclaws – not _always_ including Su, but enough that it got on her nerves. Ravenclaws did, after all, have a reputation for being 'the smart ones' and Hermione's presence hurt their pride.

She did not, however, tell them about the dreams. To tell the truth, she didn't like to think about them herself – about the Veil, whispering her name, calling to her, and the mysterious girl that she could never quite catch a proper glimpse of. She didn't know what the dreams meant, but she was infinitely glad that they did not bother much over the holidays, and spent most of her time doing Christmas shopping, or helping out at the Department of Mysteries, and baking with Nathan.

Christmas passed, relatively peacefully, and Su went back to Hogwarts, preparing for exams and keeping an eye on Harry Potter's 'Golden Gryffindor Trio', though she wasn't overly worried. She knew how the story went, and that everything would be all right in the end. Wouldn't it? Who was she kidding? She was a stressed mess.

Nearer to exams their study group expanded to include Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot, and Michael Corner from Ravenclaw; Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, Fay Dunbar, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil from Gryffindor; and Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie McMillan, Hannah Abbott, and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff.

The large group was so rowdy, even whispering, that Madam Pince tossed them out of the library, so they congregated in the Ravenclaw Common Room, much to Penelope Clearwater's delight. The Prefect congratulated the first year Ravenclaws on encouraging better study habits in their peers, and they were awarded two house points each.

At the end of the year, when Harry Potter and Company had their Grand Adventure and faced down Quirrell-Mort, Su let out a great sigh of relief, and sent a whole bunch of Chocolate Frogs over to Harry's beside table.

She'd been so worried about Potter and his friends, that her grades had not been as good as she'd hoped. She had, at least, beaten Hermione Granger in Potions and Charms, which she felt quite proud of. Blaise congratulated her.

When Slytherin lost the house cup, she comforted him in return.

He promised to write her over the summer, as did Susan, Hannah, Padma, Daphne, and Sally-Anne. She was planning on sending them all mirrors over the holidays and would encourage them to 'spy' around corners in the upcoming school year.

One could never be too safe from a basilisk.

* * *

**A/N: **_Okay, all done. I'm pretty sure that this will be the last time I update this particular Epilogue, though I will still (eventually) update this particular story with notifications about the sequels. At the moment I'm still working on second year, but I hope to go right up to seventh, and - maybe - write a short post-Hogwarts sequel, although that's not at all set in stone. _

_I hope you've enjoyed reading about Su's Canon Adventures - let me know what you think, please!_


	16. SEQUEL UP! Preview Here

**Author's Note:**_ SEQUEL UP! Here is the first chapter of Second Year - titled 'The Path He Chose to Follow' and starring Harry Potter, Su Li, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood (all my fav characters in one place!) Anyway: previews!_

* * *

**~ Summer ~**

Harry Potter was feeling rather miserable. Though the sun shone brightly outside his window, he found himself recalling a different sort of fire… trapping him and his best friend in a room with a mirror and a madman.

The events of the last year were a bit of a blur – discovering he was a wizard, befriending Su Li and Neville Longbottom, joining the Quidditch team as Seeker, the adventure with a three-headed dog… and getting kidnapped by Professor Quirrell, who turned out to have Voldemort in the back of his head.

Now, three weeks out of school, Harry was feeling as trapped as he ever had while at the Dursleys. They'd locked all his school stuff away in the cupboard under the stairs, never mind that Harry had holiday homework. The cupboard had once been his bedroom, too, but now he lived in what was previously Dudley's second bedroom/trash disposal room. It was as much of a prison as his cupboard had ever been.

To make matters worse, despite their promises, neither of Harry's so-called best friends had written to him all summer. He'd written countless letters to them, but received no reply.

Then, on the twelfth of July, someone rang the doorbell.

Aunt Petunia answered the door, and was surprised to find herself face to face with a young Chinese girl, no more than eleven or twelve, smiling sweetly up at her. Petunia squinted suspiciously at the girl, but there didn't seem to be anything out of place about her – dressed ordinarily in jeans and a flowery blouse, not like those ridiculous robes that those… those _people _often decked themselves out in.

The girl must have been a friend of Dudley's. Or perhaps a relative of one of the neighbours.

"Hello," the girl said, smiling. "Are you Mrs Dursley, by any chance?"

"I am," Petunia smiled back at the girl.

"I'm Su," the girl said. "Su Li. I was wondering… is Harry around?"

Petunia froze.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Is Harry around? Harry Potter. You see, it's my birthday today – I'm turning twelve – and I wanted to invite him to my party. And – if it were okay with you – I was hoping he might stay with me for the rest of the holidays."

Petunia Dursley blinked. Taking that freak off her hands for the rest of the summer… it sounded like a dream come true. But other times she'd tried to get rid of the boy, he'd always shown up again, dragged along by that nasty old man with his twinkling eyes.

_This had better not be a trick_, Petunia thought crossly.

"Boy!" She shouted. "Come down here!"

Harry scampered down the stairs, expecting to be given more chores – like weeding the garden, or walking down to the market to buy groceries. He didn't expect to see his best friend, standing at the door, looking innocent as a daisy.

"Su?"

"Hello, Harry," Su waved, still standing in the doorway. "I was hoping to invite you to my birthday party today. The Weasleys are hosting – their mum insisted – and she'd like you to stay over for the rest of the holidays, if that was okay with you."

"Really?"

"Haven't you been getting my letters?" Su asked, puzzled.

"No," Harry frowned. "You've been sending letters?"

"Drat," Su frowned. "I'd hoped it would work if I sent them through the muggle mail. Never mind that, Harry – do you want to come? If it's all right with your Aunt and Uncle."

"Aunt Petunia, may I go?" Harry asked, holding his breath. _Please, please, please_.

She regarded them warily, and then sniffed.

"Fine," she said. "But don't expect us to take you to King's Cross Station in September. If those freaks want to take you, then I don't want you back 'til June."

Su and Harry exchanged excited glances. "Go get your stuff, Harry, I'll wait here."

Harry raced up the stairs to his bedroom, hurriedly throwing everything he owned – not much – into a rucksack, and then running back downstairs. Aunt Petunia had already unlocked the cupboard where all his school things had been kept. Su helped him lug his trunk over to the car waiting for them outside, and then, finally, they were on their way.

Harry didn't even bother saying goodbye.

"So you've been writing to me?" Harry asked, suddenly.

"All summer," Su nodded. "I wrote you through the muggle mail system, because I worried that your family wouldn't let you get any owls – magic and all that. Someone must be monitoring your mail. I mean, where are all your fan letters?"

"Fan letters?" Harry blinked. Su rolled her eyes.

"Yes, fan letters. You _are_ a celebrity after all. I bet loads of people wrote to you after you defeated Darth Volder. Someone must have been monitoring the mail so that no one could send you anything cursed."

"Cursed?" Harry squeaked.

"Well, you did defeat a Dark Lord," Su's Aunt Beatrice told him, driving the car. "A lot of You-Know-Who's supporters weren't very happy with you. There's a reason why your location is classified in the ministry – so that those supporters of You-Know-Who still at large can't find you and hurt you."

"Oh." Harry turned back to Su, who was bouncing excitedly in her seat, humming. "So… it's your birthday today, Su?" She nodded. "I haven't got you a present, you know."

"If you want to, we can stop by Diagon Alley," Beatrice offered. "We've got to swing by there anyway, because I have some robe orders I want to pick up. And Su wants to buy a book on Ancient Runes and their healing applications."

"For your eyes," Su whispered to Harry. "Or to fix your glasses."

They parked a few blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron, and walked the rest of the way. They didn't stop in to eat, though Harry waved to Tom the barkeep, and then they walked through the pub and into Diagon Alley.

It was as wonderful as Harry remembered – there were all sorts of things to see. People bartering over Dragon's Liver, and ordering up a barrel of newt eyes at the apothecary. There were books about invisibility and monsters in the window of Flourish and Blotts, and already there were a handful of Hogwarts students trickling into Madam Malkin's robe shop to upsize their uniforms.

Aunt Beatrice led the pair into Gringotts, where Harry realised, quite suddenly, that he didn't have his key. Hagrid must have kept it from last year, or Dumbledore.

"Just ask a goblin," Beatrice assured him. "If you have proof of blood right, they'll make you up a new key. People lose theirs all the time."

"Blood right?" Harry asked.

"It's not hard," Beatrice assured him. "They'll give you a blood quill, you write your name with it, and they confirm your identity. It won't do any lasting damage unless you use it too much. There are laws against that, fortunately."

"Come on, Harry," Su tugged him towards an empty booth. "Aunt Bea will be fine on her own. Besides I want to ride the carts! It's like a rollercoaster!"

"All right," Harry followed her too the booth, where the goblin working there looked up at them and sneered. Harry wondered if he was trying for a smile.

"Names?" The goblin asked.

"Harry Potter, sir," he said. "I was hoping to access my vault, only… well. I've not got my key, sir."

"Lost, is it?" The goblin scoffed.

"Somebody else has it." Harry explained

"Your guardian?"

"Er, I don't think so." The goblin sat up at this, and squinted at him.

"Explain," he hissed.

"Er, well, my guardians are my aunt and uncle," Harry told him. "But I think that Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has my vault key."

"Hmmm," the goblin laced his fingers together, deep in thought. "Most unorthodox. Do you wish for us to create a new key for you?"

"If it's not too much trouble," Harry admitted.

The goblin pulled out a thick booklet of paperwork and a quill. "Sign your full name, here, and initial – all three now – here, here, here, here…"

There were about twenty places to initial, and Harry ignored the painful itching in his left hand until he was done. Putting down the quill, he lifted his hand and winced at the initials carved there – HJP. The goblin handed him a Band-Aid decorated with little animated golden snitches.

"That's ghastly," Su whispered, eyeing the scratches in his hand. "Who on earth invented those? If they're going to take blood from your veins, they don't need to maim you in the process."

"That will heal up in a few minutes," the goblin assured Harry, ignoring Su. He dipped his hand into a drawer behind the counter, and handed Harry a thin gold wire. As soon as it dropped into Harry's palm, the wire shivered, and began to reshape itself, until Harry soon had a small gold key in his hand.

"Do you have a chain, or something, that he can keep it on?" Su asked.

"Anti-theft, Loss-Prevention chains are two galleons each, when charmed dragon-hide." The goblin informed them. "Gold ones are five galleons. Silver are three galleons."

"I'll take one of the dragon-hide ones, please," Harry told the goblin, who scribbled something on a piece of paper, and then drew out a necklace made of small brown chain links – tanned and charmed dragon-hide.

"The two galleons have been removed from your account," the goblin informed Harry. "Would you like to be taken to your vault, now?"

"Yes please."

The goblin waved them behind the counter, stopping when Su moved to follow.

"She's not authorised," the goblin growled.

"She's with me," Harry assured him quickly. Su smiled gratefully at him. The goblin frowned, but didn't protest further.

The cart ride down to the vault was as fast and frightening as Harry remembered, though Su enjoyed herself. "It's like flying," she said to him. "Don't you think?"

"A little," Harry shrugged, but there was something missing. _The sky_, he thought.

He opened his vault, and took a moment to gape at the mounds of money before him; gold, silver, and bronze, spilling all over the floor.

"Harry," Su breathed. "How much money do you _have_?"

The goblin pulled out a piece of parchment, and handed it to Su.

"Two thousand, one hundred and eighty three galleons, four thousand and twelve sickles, and eight thousand four hundred and nine knuts."

"So your net worth is…" Su frowned as she concentrated. Harry wondered if she was calculating in her head. "Twenty-nine knuts to a sickle, seventeen sickles to a galleon. That's almost two hundred and ninety galleons in knuts, about two hundred and thirty-six galleons in sickles… Harry, you're worth about twenty seven hundred galleons. If a sickle is equivalent to about a pound, then seventeen by twenty seven hundred… that's about forty-six thousand pounds. Impressive. So if we put aside, say, two hundred and fifty galleons for the next six years of your schooling – that's for emergencies or expensive Quidditch supplies, as well as potions ingredients and textbooks. Then save up about five hundred galleons for post-graduation, in case you want to travel the world before you find a job and so on… you still have about seven hundred galleons to spare, you can buy plenty of clothes and essentials with that!"

"Su… did you just do all that in your head?" Harry squinted at her.

"Well, yes," Su blushed. "Math has always been one of my better subjects."

"Wow."

"Right, well, do you deal with credit cards, Mr… uh?"

"Snapfang," the goblin told her. "Yes, we do. Fiendishly difficult things, though – all those electronic transactions and false bank names. We have a starting fee of ten galleons, with a three galleon payment yearly."

"Er, what about just for the summer?" Harry asked.

The goblin scowled. "Yearly. Or nothing."

"It beats lugging around a giant bag full of money," Su shrugged. "What do you think?"

"I don't really need all that much money," Harry admitted. "If I get about four hundred quid worth converted, then that should be more than enough, just for shoes and clothes, you know. I'll get another twenty galleons for your birthday present."

"Twenty!" Su gaped. "I don't think you need to spend that much on me."

Harry shrugged. "Just in case." He said. "Otherwise, I'll have leftovers I can spend on myself." Su rolled her eyes.

"Fine."

They walked out of Gringotts feeling a good deal richer than when they went in. Harry made Su promise not to peek at her presents and sent her off to explore Flourish and Blotts while he made his purchases.

First he went to the Owl Emporium and bought Hedwig a whole bag of treats. Next, he went to the apothecary, and purchased two Journeyman's Potion kits for four galleons each, one for himself, and one for Su. In Flourish and Blotts, making sure not to be seen by Su, he went and bought a couple of books on the subjects she'd been interested in last year – Ancient Runes, travel charms (expansion charms, portkey charms, feather-light charms, water-proofing charms…), and Healing. He also got several books about Herbology and building your own greenhouse for Neville, as well as a selection of seeds for interesting plants he thought Neville might like.

All of these presents he had shrunken down, and then he put them in a box in his pocket, before finding Su in the back of Flourish and Blotts, deep in a discussion about Time Turners with her Aunt.

Su had finally gotten around to asking her Unspeakable guardian whether or not the Hogwarts teachers had time turners. It took a lot of wheedling and round-about questions, but she finally puzzled out that yes, the teachers had time turners, but were carefully monitored for misbehaviour, no, Beatrice highly doubted that anyone would give a student a time-turner unless Dumbledore himself requested it.

That man had far too much power, in Beatrice's opinion, and she wandered off, leaving her adopted niece to her thoughts.

_That explains Hermione in the third book. _Su thought. _She was one of Dumbledore's favourites, and a close friend of Harry Potter's. She can't have been the only one who ever wanted to take more subjects than her schedule could handle – there's a whole house of us in Ravenclaw!_

Ever since falling victim to a time-space displacement accident following her... well... _death_, as far as anyone could tell, Su had fallen into the fictional – or not so fictional now – world of Harry Potter, a book series she had grown up reading, though she'd only read up to the fourth book.

Last year, in Diagon Alley, she'd made a decision that changed the course of her life… and the course of the plot. She'd befriended Harry Potter, and turned the whole world, as she knew it, on its head.

This year, she was determined not to fall victim to basilisks, incapable Defence teachers, scheming headmasters, or mysterious diaries. She was going to stop Ginny Weasley from ever opening the Chamber of Secrets and try and figure out a way to get Sirius Black proven innocent – because dementors were just not cool.

Her best friends, Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, after getting kidnapped by Professor Quirrell with Voldemort on the back of his head, were equally determined to train themselves so that they'd never be caught off-guard or unprepared again.

At least… that was the plan.

"Hey, Su!" Harry appeared next to her. Startled, Su brought out her wand and would've poked Harry's eye out if he'd not been wearing glasses. "OW!"

"Sorry," Su put her wand away, blushing. Harry rubbed his nose.

"You're still jumpy, huh." It wasn't a question.

In all fairness, it had been less than a month since a literal two-faced madman had kidnapped them and tried to make them fetch him the Philosopher's Stone. That wasn't an adventure Su was likely to forget any time soon.

"A little." She said. Harry nodded.

"Well, I've got everything I need."

"We'll take you into London later to buy you proper muggle clothes," she pulled a face as she looked him up and down, wearing Dudley's massive hand-me-downs. "Something that fits. Maybe something green, for your eyes. Green's my favourite colour, you know."

"I thought you liked blue," Harry replied, surprised.

"I do," Su shrugged. "I look better in blue. But green's my favourite colour."

She looked him straight in the eye – his green eyes – and Harry blushed.

"Right."

Su just grinned, her expression cheeky, and light.

"Quit teasing, Su," Harry rolled his eyes, though the blush had yet to fade.

"All right," she smirked. "Aunt Bea will get her things, and then we'll be off to the Weasleys for my birthday party! Yay!"

* * *

The Burrow was the Weasley home, and though it was crooked and wobbly, and looked like it was only being held up by magic – which it probably was – Harry thought it was brilliant. There were five chimneys up on the big red roof, and all around the front door there lay a jumble of gumboots and chickens and one rusty cauldron.

Inside, there was the sound of chatter and laughter, and all in all, to Harry, it seemed like the most wonderful, comfortable place on earth.

"HARRY!" The door slammed open to reveal both Weasley twins, though one's hair was blue and the other's a bright magenta. "You've made it! Hullo, Su!"

"Hi Fred, hi George!" Su waved to each of them. They pouted.

"How can you tell?" George whined.

"We even changed colours while you were gone," Fred added.

"Your voices are a bit different," Harry offered. "And Fred's a bit taller."

"Ha!" The magenta haired boy pointed at his brother. "I _told_ you so!"

"Harry's only saying that," George waved a dismissive hand.

"Come on, birthday girl," both boys grabbed one of Su's hands, leaving Harry to follow behind, amused. "Mum's got everything all set up. She loves girls – spoils Gin. I think she wishes we all had long swishy princess hair like yours."

George ruffled the hair in question, and Su laughed as it turned a bright sapphire blue, which matched her Ravenclaw colours quite well.

"Come on, Harry!" She called over her shoulder. "You're missing all the fun!"

Harry grinned and jogged to catch up. They Weasley twins marched Su straight through the house, so Harry only got a few seconds to gape at how much bigger the house was on the inside, with all sorts of things floating around on their own – the dishes washing themselves, and a hovering training broom the size of his shoe buzzing around the living room like a mad thing.

"Mum! Look what we found!" The twins shouted, carrying Su into the backyard, her toes dangling over the grass. "Can we keep it?"

"Fred! George! What on earth have you done to her hair?" Mrs Weasley gasped.

"It's all right, Mrs Weasley," Su assured her. "I like blue."

"But the photographs!"

"Calm down mum," George put his arm around Mrs Weasley's shoulders.

"We'll fix it," Fred pulled a spray bottle out of his pocket, and squirted whatever potion was inside over Su's hair, combing it through. Her hair turned mostly black again, with a few blue streaks peeking out.

"Oh, you poor dear," Mrs Weasley muffled Su in a great warm hug that smelled like roast lamb and rosemary. Then she spotted Harry.

"Harry! How good to see you!" Harry found himself unable to breathe, wrapped up in Mrs Weasley's embrace. "Look at you, you're so skinny! Come along, dear, we're just about to have lunch. Do you like the decorations?"

There were balloons everywhere, and a bunch of people running about the yard or mingling by the lunch table. Ron Weasley and Oliver Wood were on their brooms, practicing their Quidditch skills. Oliver was telling Ron that he had the potential to be a fine Keeper. Neville was speaking to a small redheaded girl, who must have been the youngest Weasley – Harry vaguely remembered her from Platform Nine and Three Quarters when Uncle Vernon had picked him up from King's Cross Station.

There was a massive cake, that Harry was not sure could be eaten by a gathering their size – or even, really, a gathering of a hundred.

"She wanted every flavour in there," Su admitted to Harry in a low voice. "Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry… I'm holding out for the hazelnut. I love hazelnuts."

"BIRTHDAY GIRL!" Someone shouted. All of a sudden Su's friends swarmed at her, battling for her attention. Oliver Wood pushed through the crowd, lifting her up in a hug and twirling her around. He was pushed aside by Hermione Granger, Padma Patil, and Cho Chang, who also hugged her excitedly. She shook hands with Percy Weasley and Arthur Weasley – the Weasley patriarch – as well as a few men and a woman that Harry didn't recognise (he was told later that they were Beatrice's co-workers in the Department of Mysteries, Alfred Yao, Sherlock Pearl, and Madam Locke).

"Yao's family will be here later," Su told him, a little breathless from all the hugging. "David's a fifth year Ravenclaw now – we all hope he'll make prefect this year."

"Hullo, Su," Neville grinned at them. Su beamed and wrapped both her best friends up in a happy group hug.

"I've missed you guys," she breathed.

"Me too," Harry admitted.

"Did something happen with your relatives?" Neville asked Harry. "I've been writing you all summer, but you haven't written back."

"I've been writing, though," Harry protested. "Su said the same thing. She thinks someone's interfering with my mail."

They looked at Su. "I'll tell you about it later," she promised.

And with that, they were swept into the party.

* * *

For hours, Harry enjoyed food and friends and laughter. Su was showered with gifts (mostly books, of course) and found herself, as the birthday girl, being drawn aside by every partygoer for conversation and congratulations and hugs.

Harry joined Ron, Oliver, and the twins in a discussion about Quidditch. Harry still didn't follow any particular team in the league, which amazed everybody, and for the rest of the day he had Ron trying to sway him towards the Chudley Cannons, while Oliver attempted to convince him that Puddlemere United were the best team ever.

Harry was kind of leaning towards Puddlemere – they had at least won a match in the last century. Also: respect for his Captain.

Eventually, all the guests began to leave, trickling away from the Burrow in twos and threes, all stopping to shake Su's hand or give her a big hug.

Finally, Su, Harry, and Neville were able to spend some time together, alone, and they were sitting in the backyard as daylight faded. All the Weasleys were inside, eating Molly's massive dinner, but the trio had opted to grab their plates and run.

In the chaos of the Weasley household, they wouldn't be missed for a couple of hours. The three best friends took the opportunity to catch up on each other's summers.

Neville had spent most of his time working in his family's greenhouses, enjoying the quiet time with the plants and his thoughts. Su had learned how to take care of baby Jasmine, and was learning Occlumency from Beatrice and some of the other Department of Mysteries workers. Harry had been doing a lot of chores, and no homework.

"So who do you think is interfering with my mail?" Harry asked, finally.

Su glanced over her shoulder, in case any grownups were hovering near by, then she gestured for the two boys to huddle in closer. What she was about to share was secret.

"Dumbledore," she said. Neither boy was surprised.

"Listen, Harry, near the beginning of the summer, I wanted to get you away from your family as soon as possible. I asked Beatrice and Nathan, and they thought it was a great idea that I have someone my own age to spend time with, since Nathan's busy with the baby, and Beatrice is back at the Ministry. I don't know how Dumbledore found out about the plans, but he sent us a letter telling us that we couldn't remove you from the Dursleys for at least three weeks. Then a couple of days later, we got a letter from Mrs Weasley that said she'd be happy to host my birthday party and to let you stay here for the rest of summer. She seemed to think it was Nathan's idea… but I _know_ that it wasn't."

"This is pretty serious, Harry," Neville frowned. "I mean, first he's got control of your vault – I know that you've got your key now, but he was in charge of it before – then he sent you that invisibility cloak last year and left Dark-Lord-Bait lying around in a school full of children, and he practically dared you to go after Quirrell."

"Yeah, but Quirrell kidnapped us, instead, didn't he?" Harry pointed out.

"True," Neville acknowledged. "My point is; he's cryptic and suspicious. Su was right last year – if Vold– I mean, 'Darth Volder' – is back, we need to prepare ourselves, and we can't let Dumbledore trick us into facing Him before we're ready."

"My question is, why is he so insistent that Harry stay with the Dursleys?" Su put forward. "I mean, the Weasleys I can understand, because they adore Dumbledore, and they trust him a lot, but as far as I can tell, there's no advantage to keeping Harry in the Dursley house at all… they haven't been abusing you this summer, have they, Harry?"

He shook his head. "I never did get around to telling them that I can't do magic outside of school," he smirked. "They're all too afraid to lay a hand on me. But it wasn't exactly pleasant for me to stay there, either."

"I wish you had someone else you could live with," Neville sighed.

_Sirius Black_, Su thought, recalling the Prisoner of Azkaban. One problem: how to get him free, and prove him innocent. Scabbers the Rat – also known as Peter Pettigrew – was somewhere in the house behind them, but she didn't know how to convince the authorities of her story, or how to stop the rat from escaping, or even to explain how she knew everything that she did anyway.

"So, Occlumency," Harry interrupted Su's thoughts. "It stops people from reading your mind, right? Why do you need that?"

"It's sort of multi-purpose, actually," Su admitted. "Stops mind-reading, not that that's common; and can lessen the effects of mind-controlling potions and spells, like the Imperius curse, and love potions, and memory charms; it also helps keep your mind organized and clear-thinking."

"So why do you need it?" Harry pressed. Su sighed.

"I've told you a little bit about it, Harry, but I think I can explain a little more," she said. "Neville, the official story is that I'm an orphan, the unofficial story is that I'm the victim of a chronological-displacement, er, kind of like time travel. The _real_ story is that I… well, I came through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries."

Neville gaped. Harry blinked. Only one of them vaguely understood.

"You… but that's impossible," Neville breathed. "Wait, the Veil is in the Ministry?"

"Yeah, in the Death Chamber," Su nodded.

"I'd always thought it was a myth," Neville shivered.

"Still sort of is."

"Um, will someone please explain this to me?" Harry asked.

"Right," Su blushed. "Er, the Veil is kind of like… the passage to the Other Side. That means Death, Harry, in case I wasn't very clear. It means that I'm… I'm probably dead. Or I was, but now I'm not. We're not really sure. Anyway, the point is, because I'm part of a whole bunch of secret Department of Mysteries Experiments, I have to be able to protect my mind from people who would want to learn said secrets."

"Wicked," Harry grinned. "Can I learn, too?"

"I think so," Su nodded. "Aunt Bea is helping me, but the whole Department has been itching to look at you for eleven years, so I'm sure they'd be glad to help."

"Why?" Harry looked confused for a moment.

"Does the defeat of Darth Volder ring a bell?" Neville rolled his eyes.

"Oh," Harry grinned sheepishly. "Right. That."

"I've already learned how to organise my mind, mostly," Su admitted. "My mental shields aren't quite up to Aunt Bea's level, but I'm only twelve so… you know. I can work on that. I don't think it would take long for you guys to catch up, though."

She didn't mention _how_ she'd catalogued her memories. She'd basically shelved her knowledge into sections. Muggle Studies: Math, English, History, Science etc. Past Life: her mother, father, little brothers, and everything she remembered about living in the muggle world before somehow passing through the Veil. Wizarding World: everything she'd learned about magic and the wizarding world since coming to live with Beatrice and Nathan Li. First Year: contained the events of the past year, as well as what she remembered of the first Harry Potter Book. Second Year, Third Year, and Fourth Year, contained the other three books that she had read.

She never did get around to reading those other three books. It was too bad.

"We have the whole summer," Neville pointed out. "We could ask our parents for a tour of the ministry, or help out your Aunt in the Department of Mysteries…"

"I don't know what areas we're allowed in," Su admitted. "I mean, everything down there is top secret, but I think that if we behave ourselves, the Unspeakables would let us hang around. They all live for Uncle Nate's baking, anyway."

"Bribes," Harry grinned. "I like it."

His summer was looking better by the minute.

* * *

**A/N: **_I'm pretty sure that if a sickle were equal to a pound, Harry would be ridiculously rich. In Su's defence, she doesn't know the wizard-muggle conversion rate. I'm going to say that Harry's worth a little over half of what Su estimated... maybe 55-60% of what she guessed. I'm from Australia, so I'm not very familiar with the English money system, but I think that that's a little more fair for a reasonably wealthy boy's trust fund... I think. _

_If you have a better suggestion for Harry's net worth, or the wizard-muggle conversion rate, please let me know. _

_Also - tell me what you think of the story so far, and what you think might happen next :)_


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